Pancakes!
by Huinesoron
Summary: Legolas makes pancakes! Fear him! Now including the 'Lost Pancake Tales' saga. PG for mild fantasy pancake-shaped violence.
1. The Kitchen of Doom

Legolas (we know how much you all love him) makes pancakes. Uh-oh . . .  
  
Legolas was skipping merrily through the woods of Lothlorien one day when he saw a gingerbread cottage. "Oh look," he said for the benefit of our readers, "a gingerbread cottage. I wonder what's inside."  
  
Inside the house, the Elf found a kitchen. After searching it for several minutes, he decided that it probably wasn't the Dread Kitchen of Doom and turned to leave.  
  
Just as he was about to exit, however, a mysterious and dangerous thought struck him. Held helpless in its grip he turned, a strange, evil grin on his face. "I will make . . . PANCAKES! MWA-HA-HA!" he cried.  
  
Within seconds he had gathered all the components. With his amazing super- human (but not super-elf) abilities, he managed within half an hour to make a towering stack of the fearful products.  
  
He was ready to unleash evil upon the unsuspecting world once more!  
  
* * * *  
  
Not that I have anything against pancakes. Or Legolas. In fact, the only thing I have something against is people who read and don't review. So . . . get in my good books! Review!  
  
hS 


	2. Frodo

I'm sorry; I have this obsession with writing continuously.  
  
Dagmar of Avalon: I'm *so* glad someone liked it!  
  
Carterxoxo: Well, you're in luck. It just got longer!  
  
Zoheret and Dove: I hope you laugh a little more at this.  
  
Elethril: You seem a bit outnumbered here. Still, I hope this bit changes your mind.  
  
Val :oP: Mwa-ha-ha! The evil pancakes are back!  
  
The suspense is over! Now, here is the long awaited second instalment of . . . PANCAKES!  
  
Frodo was sitting amid the trees near the Mirror of Galadriel, minding his own business. The birds were singing in the mallorn, the sun was glinting through the leaves, lending an emerald tint to the light, and-  
  
SPLAT!  
  
The hobbit reached up and scraped the sauce-and-sugar filled pasty mass from his face. Looking down at the thing in his hands, he exclaimed, "Oh, no . . . I've been pancaked!"  
  
The sound of elvish laughter faded into the forest.  
  
* * * *  
  
Sorry it's a bit short. If no-one likes the idea any more, I'll stop. But you have to review and let me know . . .  
  
hS 


	3. Hobbits

Oh, Varda . . .  
  
I didn't expect *this* many reviews! I've never been so popular in my life!  
  
Clanker: No, no beer. It ruins the computer.  
  
Oddwen: Scream in fear once more. The pancakes have returned!  
  
Onua Wingstar: Thanks.  
  
Esgalromen: You love pancakes? So do I! I'm glad you like it.  
  
Sremla Calmcacil: I get so many reviews because I write about Legolas. And food. And LOTR. See?  
  
Taraisilwen: I'll try for funny. I hope I succeed!  
  
Chocolat Elf: Tres evil. I update now. Pleased?  
  
Nik: I'll try to make this one a little longer.  
  
Alda. And Lyn. Twice: I'm glad you think it's the best. Er . . . Omish laughter? What?  
  
Bergthora: Yay! Acronyms!  
  
Tenshi no Yami: I promise I *will* get Galadriel . . . but not this time. I'm so evil!  
  
Bamfbabe: Totally pointless. Prepare for more splatting!  
  
Richiefonzie: Er . . . now?  
  
K8therabidelf: It's gonna be longer. Much longer. I'm glad you like it.  
  
Oddwen (again): Hmm . . . Pippin eats the pancakes . . . I hadn't thought of that. I'll use it!  
  
And now, having spent so long answering my reviewers (I love you all!), here's the next part . . .  
  
Frodo ran through the forest, the remains of the pancake in his hands. Bursting into a clearing, he found those he sought: Sam, Merry and Pippin.  
  
"Help, help!" he shouted. Then, when they looked towards him, he waved the mess he held. Sam ambled over to see what all the fuss was about.  
  
"What is it, Mr Frodo?" he asked. He wasn't really concerned; after all, what could really go wrong in peaceful Lorien?  
  
"P-p-p-p-" Frodo stuttered. "Calm down, Mr Frodo," put in Sam. "It can't be that bad."  
  
By this time, the two younger hobbits had wandered over, so all were there to hear the cry of . . . "Pancakes!"  
  
SPLAT! SPLAT! SPLAT! SPLAT!  
  
Yes, Legolas, sensing an opportunity for more evil, had followed Frodo through the trees, and had now unleashed his second attack on the unsuspecting Hobbit.  
  
Frodo scraped the mixture from his face, looking around as he did so to see how the others were faring. Sam and Merry, as expected, were pulling the pancakes off with expressions of acute disgust. Of Pip's pancake, however, there was only a small scrap left. Even as the other three watched, he swallowed it hastily, then looked around at them.  
  
"If you're not eating those," he said, his eyes gleaming, "can I have them?"  
  
Legolas watched from the shadows. The hobbits had an unexpected advantage. This could lead to difficulties. It was time to move to the next stage of his plan . . .  
  
* * * *  
  
Well? What d'you think? Please review and tell me, otherwise I'll . . . I'll . . . er . . . I'll do something horribly unspecified to you and your immediate family!  
  
hS 


	4. Aragorn & Boromir

Sorry I didn't update for a while. This story is only inspired by school. Which I don't go to at the weekend. And then I found out that Ff.net didn't like my auction, and so wouldn't let me post until the sixteenth. Sigh  
  
Anyway . . .  
  
Esgalromen: Yay! Sticky Frodo!  
  
Imbefaniel: It's supposed to be short. It's supposed to be lame. And Legolas is evil because of the Curse of Narrative Causality.  
  
Lhachel: Yes, pointless indeed. Except . . . it's not pointless! It brings joy into the lives of many!  
  
Elfbabe009: Glad.  
  
Legolas-Lover-Baby: Ah, another good idea. I might use that one later too.  
  
Rayne: Riiiight . . .  
  
Little-Lost-One: But muffins wouldn't have splatted so well. Although I must admit, Frodo crying 'I've been muffined!' is a nice image.  
  
Sarie Greenleaf, Lady Of Rohan, And Princess Of Mirkwood: The English is very good. These ones don't make people into slaves, but I see a sequel coming . . .  
  
Oddwen: I'm continuing!  
  
Kyma-Lijah-Obsessed: I think you may have me confused with someone else. Nevertheless, I'm glad you like it!  
  
Anoriel: So glad you liked it, despite it beating yours.  
  
Carterxoxo: Yay! Torturing Legolas!  
  
Bulma Greenleaf: You can't exactly read it forever, but it might get close . . .  
  
Now we've got *that* over with (No, I love all my reviewers really!), how about some story?  
  
*It was time to move into the next stage of his plan . . .*  
  
Boromir and Aragorn were standing at the foot of one of the giant Mallorn trees of Caras Galadron, discussing recent events in Gondor, and whether the Fellowship should take the Ring directly to Mordor or stop at Minas Tirith en route. Just as they were about to walk away, Aragorn saw a figure he recognised slipping through the trees away to their left.  
  
"Hey, Legolas!" he called, "Do you think we should go to-"  
  
But he got no further. Even as the elf realised he had been spotted he spun around, reaching with both hands for the bag by his side. When he pulled them out, he wasted no time in launching the contents at Aragorn and Boromir.  
  
SPLAT! SPLAT!  
  
The elf ran away into the darkness of the forest as the two Men scraped the pancakes from their faces. Just as they could see again, four small shapes burst from the trees and ran straight into them, all six ending up in a heap on the leafy floor.  
  
Boromir was the first up, and as he saw who had collided with them he burst out laughing. It was, of course, the hobbits. But big man's face soon set into hard lines as he heard what they had to say.  
  
"Legolas!  
  
"He's got pancakes!"  
  
"He's attacking everyone with them!"  
  
"What do we do?"  
  
"Okay, okay, calm down," interrupted Aragorn. When they were all quiet, he pointed at Frodo and asked, "What happened?"  
  
"Legolas has been attacking all of us with pancakes. Then he ran off this way. Did you see him?"  
  
The hobbit's gaze rose to meet Aragorn's pancake-covered face. He swallowed, then recovered and asked, "Which way did he go?"  
  
Aragorn thought for a moment, then pointed up the hill. Frodo paled, and he cried, "We haven't much time! Come on!"  
  
He ran off, the other five chasing. As Aragorn came up alongside him, the Man asked, "Not much time for what?"  
  
"I haven't time to explain!" shouted the Hobbit, and sprinted onwards.  
  
* * *  
  
Well? Why don't they have much time? Do you know? Can you guess? If you can, why not review and tell me? If you can't, review and tell me what you think.  
  
It's not as if it costs anything.  
  
hS 


	5. Caras Galadron

Hello, my nice reviewers:  
  
Chocolat Elf: Hmm . . . you're even more insane than Pippin!  
  
Dragonlet; Nice name! And they're not mad because (sadly) I didn't think of that. Sorry.  
  
Roheryn: Bwahahaha! Don't wander away, please . . .  
  
Alatariel: You're in my good books, don't worry.  
  
uDontNoMe.com: Oh, now *that* is a good idea. Once I'v finished, I'll have to serialise this.  
  
The she-MadHatter (Fallen From Jupiter): Yep, it's fun. Like I said, I'll have to serialise it.  
  
Saurons Twin Sister aka loveit: Another line for the serial.  
  
Imbefaniel: Lame is fun!  
  
Oddwen: War on the brain. Hmm . . . A good idea. I may do that one later.  
  
Anon: Chapters can't be longer, I run out of ideas very quickly. Sorry.  
  
Elfin-Goddess: You may say that. It *is*. But it's still fun.  
  
And now, a review I received by e-mail. I'll have to write it out, as otherwise you'll never see it:  
  
hi! My review button doesn't work so I am going to email the authors....ahem!:  
  
I fear Legolas as much as he fears me . . . great story  
  
johannah, aka; rayne taikutsu na  
Johannah: I'm so glad you liked it! And I'm sure he fears you very much.  
  
Disclaimer: I don't own them. I only own the pancakes.  
  
Yes, it's time for another splatting, in the latest chapter of . . . Pancakes!  
  
Legolas reached the summit of the hill of Caras Galadron and came to the mallorn in which the abode of Celeborn and Galadriel rested. *This is it*, he thought, *the final hurdle*.  
  
The Lord and Lady of Laurelindorenan, of Lothlorien, sat enthroned in their main chamber. Celeborn was in fact half asleep, but to all except his wife he looked as regal as ever.  
  
"Wake up," hissed Galadriel. "I sense something."  
  
"Wh't? What is it?"  
  
"I'm not sure. But I think it's -"  
  
SPLAT! SPLAT!  
  
Galadriel screamed, a note high enough to shatter glass. "*What* is THIS?" she cried. Celeborn scraped a similar mass off his own face and sniffed at it.  
  
"It smells like . . . pancake?"  
  
"AIEEEEEE!!! I've been pancaked!"  
  
Frodo, Aragorn, Sam, Boromir, Merry and Pippin entered the chamber at a run just in time to hear that final cry. Frodo looked at her and shook his head sadly.  
  
"Then we are too late," he said. "He has already got to you."  
  
"Yes, Frodo, he has," she replied, with barely contained anger.  
  
The hobbit turned to Aragorn, at his side. "You see? I told you we did not have much time. Now it seems we did not have enough."  
  
As Aragorn nodded in reply, Pippin sidled up to Galadriel and asked, "Are you eating that? 'Cos if not, I'll have it."  
  
The elf lady stared at him. "You actually *eat* those things?" she asked in disbelief.  
  
"Yup," he nodded. Wordlessly, she handed it over. Then she looked back at Frodo.  
  
"Who did this?" she asked, her tone hardening.  
  
He shrugged. "Legolas."  
  
"*Legolas*?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Hmm," she replied. "We'll have to do something about that."  
  
"But what *can* we do?" asked Aragorn. "We tried to stop him here, and that failed utterly. So . . ."  
  
The Lady of Lorien smiled grimly. "I think I have a plan . . ."  
  
* * * *  
  
What has Galadriel got in store for Legolas? Will it stop the onslaught of the pancakes? Does anyone actually care?  
  
Why not review and let me know if you can answer any of these. Or even if you can't. Go on, you know you want to.  
  
hS 


	6. Glade of Battle

Ah! More pancake mania! I never thought this would be so popular . . .  
  
Imbefaniel: They may be only half done, for added splattiness. Or they may just have a lot of syrup and stuff . . .  
  
Anoriel: I am not wise in the ways of food. So I have absolutely *no* idea what French toast is. But I hope you like my version of what happens next.  
  
Aerlene: Hmm . . . I think I'll have to stop Pippin from eating him, then.  
  
Gee: No, I don't suppose it does.  
  
Anonymous: Mmm . . . Waffles . . . but we could *never* let her waste them as weapons.  
  
Jambaby1963: There could be maple syrup on the pancakes. You never know your luck.  
  
Raven Firedragon: Yes, we shall see. And I'm sorry about 'borrowing' Boromir. You can have him back once we've finished.  
  
Little-Lost-One: No! Can't throw waffles! And what is it with you people and the muffins?  
  
Iluvorlando: You'll have to wait to find out what goes on in my mind Evil grin. But I'll put Gimli in the serial, I promise.  
  
Espionage: A strange sight indeed. Gimli comes later.  
  
UDontNoMe.com: Legolas will defend himself, I promise. And of course I love you . . . as I do all my reviewers!  
  
Lainy: You really want to know? Then read on . . .  
  
Lhachel: I'm hurrying up, I'm hurrying up!  
  
Anon: I'm adding more now. I hope you like Galadriel's plan.  
  
Oddwen: Ouch! I can't even begin to imagine how people would react if I put Legolas in a bear trap!  
  
Evil Aryante: You're welcome Bow.  
  
Bulma Greenleaf: You think Legolas is unstoppable? Think again . . .  
  
Chocolat Elf: Ooh . . . that would be *too* nasty.  
  
Legolas-Lover-Baby: I'm continuing, don't worry!  
  
Ringwraith9: You don't seem to have quite got the hang of this yet, so I'll shout. THERE IS NO PLOT!!!!!  
  
Roheryn: No profiteroles, not this time.  
  
Starcraft: I'm glad you like it.  
  
[Whoeveryouare]: But wouldn't that hurt him?  
  
Vit: Pies . . . another good idea I'm not gonna use.  
  
Kyma-Lijah-Obsessed: You want to know? You'll find out.  
  
Lady Ash Took of the Shire: I'm sorry it took so long, but HERE IT IS! Finally!  
  
Brailah: Is my spelling that bad? I done't thng that mi pselign si hatt dab. (That's a joke, alright?)  
  
Zoheret and Dove: What *is* it with you and those pineapples? But I'm glad you found it so amusing.  
  
And now we've done that again (and I still love all my reviewers!) it's time for 'on with the story' . . .  
  
Legolas leaned on the mallorn and peered out. Celeborn was seated on the floor, clearly fast asleep. Carefully, knowing that there could be danger lurking behind every tree, the rogue elf lifted a pancake in each hand, took careful aim, and threw.  
  
Frodo and Sam dropped down from the tree above Celeborn's head, each grasping one of Sam's frying pans, and caught both of the pancakes inches away from the Lord of Lorien. Furious, Legolas reached for another pancake. Before he could act, however, the two hobbits flicked their wrists and sent the original pair flying straight back at him.  
  
The amazingly agile elf [a line for all you Legolovers out there] easily avoided the projectiles, and with a startlingly fast move he fired a triple salvo at the ringbearer.  
  
Frodo glanced up to see the dread dessert coming for him, but was out of time to move. He could only try to duck, before . . .  
  
SPLAT!  
  
Frodo stumbled and fell, the first casualty of the Battle of the Pancakes. Sam looked over at the sound of the crackling of the leaves. When he saw what had happened . . .  
  
"NOOOOOOO!!! Mr Frodo!" Sam ran over to where his master lay. As he tried to pull the other hobbit from the field of war, Aragorn and Boromir ran from the trees to defend them.  
  
Sam carried Frodo over to Pippin, the medical team. Leaning down, the youngest Halfling started scraping the pancake away from the ringbearer's face and eating it. After ensuring that his master would recover, Sam returned to the glade.  
  
Arriving, he found a horrifying sight. Around Celeborn, still sleeping in the centre, Aragorn, Boromir and Merry were slumped, their faces coated in pancake mix. Only Gimli remained standing, and even he had sustained a few blows, deflected only by his armour. All seemed lost as Legolas took aim at the dwarf, and . . .  
  
A beam of blue light intercepted the pancake in mid-flight, annihilating it in an instant. Elf, dwarf and hobbit all looked towards the tallest mallorn in the area, and gasped at the sight.  
  
Galadriel, the Lady of Lorien, stood before them. On her finger, revealed by its recent use to destroy the pancake, was Nenya, the Ring of Adamant. One of the three elven rings, its power had protected the Dreamflower since its creation, many centuries ago.  
  
"And now," said the elven queen, "this battle shall be decided. Sam, Gimli, get back. This is a fight for elves alone."  
  
* * * *  
  
Aha! A Galadriel/Legolas showdown! Who will win? Any guesses?  
  
If you think you know (you can tell what comes next) how about a review to tell me about it? Or just to say what you thought. Or just to make me happy. I control Legolas and the pancales. You wouldn't like me if I'm not happy evil grin.  
  
hS 


	7. Finale

Yay! More pancake madness!  
  
But first, a word to my . . . reviewers! Yay!  
  
Imbefaniel: Don't bet on it. I think I can make them both win! Then do I get the bow *and* the arrows?  
  
Rayne: Hooray for the review button! I'm glad you liked it.  
  
Lhachel: Hyper is good!  
  
PatriotHeart: I like to be different. And EvilLegolas is funner!  
  
Merrylyn: Splut as the past tenso of 'to splat'. What a great word. "Help", cried Frodo, "I've been splut!"  
  
ShadowHeartQueen: I wrote more. Is it soon enough?  
  
Supafly: You have a Legolas clone too? Did you get it from PyroElfChick? Go see 'Rings of Power' if you don't know what I'm talking about.  
  
Fuzzy Hobbit: If I didn't read to the end, I couldn't reply. And I love my reviewers so much, I couldn't bear not to reply!  
  
Hyacinth: Ooh. Diet. Not a good idea. But I hope this chapter cheers you up.  
  
Wallace: Yay! A laughing maniac reviewed my story!  
  
Anon: Not a Legolas fan? You *must* be a boy.  
  
Zoheret and Dove: You can't have her ring. It's mine, my preciousssss . . . But I might try and start a pancake fight in my school too. It's a great plan!  
  
gAmBiT: Orange . . . juice . . . riiiight . . . Shakes head at the strangeness of it  
  
Y Sunfire: I don't mind if you ask again. Honest.  
  
~Amariel~: I'm glad you like it. Say thank you to your sister.  
  
Oddwen: If I tell you who wins, it won't be worth reading. So read and find out!  
  
Mountain Daughter: Yay! Pancakes!  
  
uDontNoMe.com: I try to make the chapters longer. But I run out of ideas too fast. Sorry.  
  
Kyma-Lijah-Obsessed: Laugh! Wake your family up! Get them to read it too!  
  
Caroline: Yes. I knew that. So?  
  
Roheryn: I'm good at crazy mental images. Hehe . . .  
  
And now, more pancake madness! Wait, I already said that . . .  
  
"And now," said the elven queen, "this battle shall be decided. Sam, Gimli, get back. This is a fight for elves alone."  
  
The hobbit and dwarf scuttled around behind one of the giant mallorn, glad to be safe, and peered round at the battlefield. Galadriel stepped forward, slowly and deliberately, towards Legolas.  
  
The younger elf stood, seemingly paralysed. "I . . . I'm . . ." he stuttered. The Lady stopped, listening for his next word.  
  
But it never came. Quick as only an elf can be, he pulled out another pancake and launched it. It flew over the grass at a considerable fraction of the speed of sound, and then . . .  
  
ZZZAP!  
  
The blackened remains of the pancake floated away on the wind, never even coming close to the hand held out towards Legolas, on which the glowing Nenya was set.  
  
Infuriated, the Prince of Mirkwood launched a volley of pancakes, packed with a variety of syrups and toppings. Galadriel, utilising the power of the Ring of Adamant, effortlessly intercepted them all . . . except one.  
  
In the middle of the onslaught, a maple-syrup-packed pancake plummeted through the Lady's defences and splatted into her skirt. She stumbled, and for a moment the watchers thought she might fall, leaving Legolas to take on the world.  
  
But that was not to be. The attack only served to make the elven queen angry, and she strode forward over the ash, her ring crackling with power.  
  
Legolas saw her coming and tried to flee, but it was too late. A web of blue light flashed out, ensnaring the wood elf in a sphere of raw power. The glowing ball raised itself off the ground, then moved through the air to a flet where the Elf Prince would be interrogated to discover exactly what had happened to him, and what would be done to reverse the effects.  
  
Galadriel turned to the others. "It is finished," she said, and collapsed, her energy reserves drained.  
  
* * * *  
  
Many days passed, and in time the Fellowship were gathered on Caras Galadron to discuss the route ahead. Legolas was not present, as he was still weak from the effects of the counter-spell that had been put on him.  
  
Galadriel stepped out from the trees into the glade. Her husband Celeborn stood against a mallorn, acting regal but actually sleeping again. As the Lady of Lorien was about to speak to the seven assembled members of the Company, Sam looked up and said, "By the way, lady, I like the canopy."  
  
Galadriel looked up. "What canop . . . oh, no."  
  
SPLAT!!!!!  
  
Galadriel scraped the remains of the giant pancake from her face. Around her, the Fellowship were doing the same, and the large lump under the dessert could only be her husband. Taking a deep breath, she shouted, "LegoLAS!!!!!"  
  
The sound of elvish laughter faded into the woods as the Company set off in pursuit.  
  
* * * *  
  
Well, that's that. Next up will be an Author's Note telling the details of the Lost Pancake Tales, which will, of course, be the continuation of this. Until then, I bid you farewell. And I request that you REVIEW this story. Please!!!  
  
hS 


	8. Lost Pancake Tales One: Gimli

I'm back!  
  
Imbefaniel: Yay! Weird rules!  
  
Chocolat Elf: Yay! Thank you for being reviewer 100! And thank you for loving the story. *And*, thank you for coming up with such a strange idea. Pancake beds . . . odd. Very odd.  
  
Merrylyn: Lord of the Pancakes. I might actually change the title to . . . no, it'll just sound like all the others then.  
  
Aranel: PANCAKES! PANCAKES!  
  
Wind: You loved it? Good. Here's the next story.  
  
Litle-Lost-One: I still think those 'lol's look like a squadron of TIE fighters coming to get me . . .  
  
Rayne: Thank you. Have some more end.  
  
Anon: You may want to avoid letting any other girls know who you are. They may try and lynch you for saying that.  
  
Red Pirate: It might be, at that.  
  
Lainy [the first time]: O-kay, I've never met anyone who actually plays games with Legolas. Odd child.  
  
Fuzzy Hobbit: Ah, well, we can't expect hyper all the time.  
  
Lainy [the really long time]: Dear Valar. That *is* a long review. Your sister said that you told her about my story. That's a good thing. Thank you for spreading the word. Um . . . I can't be bothered to separate the Silmarillion, but I'm sure that they'll go together nicely. Imagine Legolas splatting Morgorth. Or Eru . . . wow. Good ideas for who to splat. Including your sister. Sibling splatting is fun!  
  
gAmBiT: Glad you thought so.  
  
Imbefaniel: Oh my indeed.  
  
Hana: I know why you didn't get it. You only read the first chapter. But I'm glad it made you giggle. Giggles is good! Thanks for reviewing!  
  
Vixen aka Emma: Ah . . . imagination is a wonderful thing. Thanks for reviewing!  
  
A very short person who is NOT a hobbit: Just a *good* idea, though.  
  
A very short person who is NOT a hobbit and who has not finished talking yet and is considering smashing the stupid keyboard: . . . and who has just won the Huinesoron award for 'most pointless review with the longest username'. Smile!  
  
Raven Firedragon: Institution? That's where they're trying to put me! Yes, go. Get back to your coffee. Thanks for reviewing.  
  
Chocolat Elf: Pancake coated Nazgul . . . nice idea. Will note it.  
  
Bulma Greenleaf: If Legolas ever gets caught, I'll make sure you get a cameo to get him out. And THANKYOUVERYMUCH for adding this to your favourites. Thankyouthankyouthankyou.  
  
And here it is at last. The story you've all been waiting for . . .  
  
Lost Pancake Tales One: Gimli  
  
Gimli son of Gloin was bored. He was sitting in the Lonely Mountain waiting to get started. He and his father, along with a few other dwarves, were going to see some elves. Ugh. Elves.  
  
They were apparently going to a place called Rivendell, where the group of fourteen who had taken the Mountain back from Smaug had stayed, and been insulted for their pains. He really didn't see why his people should obey the every wish of those stupid elves. It really made him want to scream.  
  
Gimli noticed movement out of the corner of his eye, and looked up. On a balcony above him was a dark silhouette, much taller than a dwarf. As he watched it, something detached itself from the figure and sailed off to the left.  
  
The dwarf turned tom watch it, then realised his mistake as he heard a rush of air above him and . . .  
  
SPLAT!  
  
Face covered by the mysterious pancake which had just hit him, Gimli reached for an axe and threw it straight upwards. He couldn't tell if it hit anything, however, as it came back down and hit him, shaft first, on the head, knocking him into unconscious oblivion.  
  
Gimli recovered, and was certified as still fit to go to Rivendell. The journey took many days, and the group arrived at the same time as a party of men and one of elves. Gimli stared at the elves for a moment. One of them seemed decidedly . . . familiar.  
  
* * * *  
  
Now, I know this sounds like the start of a plot, but it isn't. Gimli couldn't identify where he knew the elf (Legolas) from, and abandoned the topic in favour of insulting elves in general. Sorry.  
  
Might be Haldir next time. Might not be. I don't know. And of course, I wouldn't *dream* of asking for ideas (hint hint). But I would dream of asking for reviews. Review, please.  
  
hS  
  
Ps. I think Ff.net may have a sense of humour. I was looking at chapter seven just before posting this, and happened to glance at the advert at the top of the screen. Ahem:  
  
Perfect Pancake - $13.99: The original pancake maker for less than 30 day money back guarantee.  
  
Cast Iron Pancake Pans: Real French crepieres from Staub. Great prices. Fast UK delivery.  
  
Spooky or what?  
  
hS 


	9. Lost Pancake Tales Two: Haldir

I'm back again!  
  
Imbefaniel: Yay! Sam and the frying pans!  
  
Elanhin: Glad you liked it  
  
Chocolat Elf: Yes, it's true, the computers *are* alive. In fact, I am a computer myself. Silicon rules!  
  
Red Pirate: More pancake insaneness is here!  
  
Selene Greenleaf: Mmmm . . . syrup . . .  
  
Rayne: My story? Spooky? As if! Wide-eyed-innocent-look  
  
Person Named Bob: I think most of Middle Earth hates them for another reason to do with throwing, too.  
  
Alyde11: I'm keeping writing. Try and stop me.  
  
Little-Lost-One: You're about to find out.  
  
Anon: Yay! Down with Mary-Sues! Looks around guiltily You didn't just hear me say that, alright?  
  
Zoheret and Dove: Yay! Go Legolas! And go pineapples! Hey . . . that could be a new euphamism. Help! I think I'm going slightly pineapples!  
  
StarlightWarrior: True, but I didn't want to write that in case hoards of Legolas fangirls came after me.  
  
Love you all, people! But now, the moment you've all been waiting for . . .  
  
Lost Pancake Tales 2: Haldir  
  
Haldir of Lorien was on watch duty . . . again. He sat in his flet on the borders of the Golden Wood, waiting for something to happen. He had been doing this since the Lady had given a warning of Orcs moving in Moria, the cursed city of the dwarves.  
  
The Elf was just preparing to find out what had happened to his relief watcher - he was going off duty for the week, and could head back to Caras Galadron at last - when he heard a sound on the ground below.  
  
Pulling out his bow, Haldir dropped silently to the grass and moved stealthily to the source of the noise. At last, something to do!  
  
The object, when he found it, was very anticlimactic. Something which appeared to be a pancake was lying on the ground, with nothing to show how it had come to be there.  
  
Haldir stared at it in wonderment. Then, as he was about to give up and head back, he saw movement behind one of the nearby trees. Looking up from the ground, he caught a glimpse of what seemed to be an elf before . . .  
  
SPLAT!  
  
Haldir stumbled back, slamming into a tree, all the while clawing at his face, trying desparately to remove the disgusting mass that had hit it - another pancake. His bow dropped unnoticed to the ground, and the last thing he heard before he blacked out was a laugh, elvish in origin but utterly evil in form.  
  
* * * *  
  
Well? What did you think? How about a review? If I don't get any, I'll set my team of pancakers on you! You have been warned . . .  
  
hS 


	10. Lost Pancake Tales Three: Gandalf

Hi again, folks. More pancakey splatting coming soon! But first . . .  
  
Tarilenea: Dear Valar . . . you reviewed *every single chapter*? You are *mad*! I'm glad you found it so funny. Don't worry about the maths thing, I'm not too good at that stuff either. I've had a couple of people tell me about narcoleptic Celeborn, and the image seemed to fit. Don't be concerned about being a chocolate addict, or about getting high on gingerbread fumes. There's nothing wrong with that.  
  
Legolas Stalker Tay: Thunk as the past tense of think . . . interesting.  
  
LegozGurl: Mmmm . . . waffles . . .  
  
Jagwen: Glad you think so.  
  
Little-Lost-One: The things you learn.  
  
Az: Yay! Bombadil splatting!  
  
Imbefaniel: Thanduril may try, but I think he's more likely to get splatted.  
  
Zephyr: Don't worry, this review keeps you safe from the evil of the pancakers. Although not from your room-mate's laughter.  
  
Mysterious Reviewer: Aw, please.  
  
Maybe Tonight: It would indeed. But wouldn't this mean sharing power? There is only one lord of the pancakes, and he does not share power.  
  
KinkyFrodo: I take it you want that job, then?  
  
Chelsea Tyler: If you're a Haldir fan, just go and comfort him. I'm sure he'll love it.  
  
Lainy: Alright, alright! You can help too! I've added more now. And if I run out of ME characters to get (in, what, three years?) I may yet bring him over here. Just wait and see.  
  
Pirate Captain Kimi the Great: Peanut butter and syrup? Hmm . . . Writing more, oh Great One.  
  
Anon: Either that, or they'll come and be perfect at us. Ugh.  
  
Fuzzy Hobbit: Um . . . yes. I'll read it when I have time. Merry again? What do you have against him?  
  
Merrylyn: Lots of ideas here. I couldn't splat you (if that's what you meant), you couldn't review any more! Lots of good alternatives, though. I hadn't even thought of Eomer. And you couldn't attack us with pancakes! It wouldn't be nice!  
  
Elanhin: Yup, that's the point alright.  
  
gAmBiT: Haldir was bored. And irony is great. (Irony: Sort of like a metal)  
  
Okay, that's them. Lovely people, those reviewers. Now then . . . up until now I've tried to avoid making Legolas splat anyone during the time when either the film or the book is following the narrative. However, I'm about to abandon this policy. If anyone has any serious objections to this, can they review and tell me so I can correct it, please. Otherwise, more splats will be heard. But for now . . .  
  
Lost pancake Tales Three: Gandalf  
  
(This is going to be book based. The Fellowship have just fled the Chamber of Records in Moria, and Gandalf has remained behind to seal the door against the Orcs)  
  
- "Do as I say!" said Gandalf fiercely. "Swords are no more use here. Go!"  
  
As the other eight members of the fellowship fled down the stairs, Gandalf the Grey leaned against the door. Orcs were on the other side, but they were of no real consequence. He was powerful enough to seal the door in a moment, although it could of course still be broken. No, more dangerous was the malevolent spirit he could feel drawing near.  
  
Something came to the far side. It grasped the handle of the door, and perceived his spell. It began to weave a counter-spell, but was not strng enough to counter the will of one of the Istarii. Then Gandalf felt a rush of air next to him, and . . .  
  
SPLAT!  
  
The shock of the pancake hitting him broke his concentration, and the Thing on the other side began to break through. In confused desperation, the wizard spoke a word of Command.  
  
The stone door splintered, and the chamber beyond it shattered. Gandalf was thrown backwards down the stairs, but not before glimpsing, stepping through a blue portal to his right, the tall figure of an elf, holding a stack of pancakes.  
  
Gandalf decided not to mention this to the group.  
  
* * * *  
  
Yes, I know, it's getting shorter again. But I'm starting to run out of inspiration. I felt it was necessary to splat the entire Fellowship before moving on to some of the more . . . exotic characters, so hopefully more interesting things will happen soon. We can only hope.  
  
And one more thing. Apart from my usual request for reviews, I'd like to ask anyone I actually *know* who is reading this chapter to please review so I can tell how many of you there are. But everyone else is welcome to do so too.  
  
hS 


	11. Lost Pancake Tales Four: Sauron

Now I just have to hope that the inspiration hasn't run dry. Here we go again . . .  
  
Little-Lost-One: T'ank you. Sauron, you say?  
  
Elanhin: I agree. It'll be fun.  
  
Merrylyn: Aha! More good ideas. If I use all the ones I have, I'll be going for months!  
  
Red Pirate: Isn't that cruelty to dumb animals? And getting Bill wouldn't be too nice either.  
  
Imbefaniel: What? Let the Mighty One get caught? The fangirls would slaughter me!  
  
Rayne: I'm glad you think so.  
  
El Loco Uno: Yes! Gollum splatting! Hurrah!  
  
Anon: Oh no! You've been MarySueified! Quick! Get depressed or I'll send Legolas after you! But I'm glad you want more, no matter *how* perfect you think you are.  
  
Freakygurl12: Or is it MeGaN gReenLeAf? I'll try for longer, but there's only so much splatting I can take!  
  
Kit Cloudkicker: . . . true, but evil sounds better.  
  
Pineapple Princess: Since chapter three? Wow! That's a long time (um . . . isn't it?)  
  
gAmBiT: Well, Gandalf didn't spend any time in strange places. But I hope I can get it back.  
  
Death Scribe: Yes, you have reviewed every single chapter. You must be mad. And you seem to find the idea of people covered in pancakes strangely attractive. And you seem to have predicted my use of Nenya. I'm not sure what the non-interactive rule entails, but I do know that they removed my Auction of Middle Earth. Ah, well . . .  
  
Fuzzy Hobbit: I will get Arwen. But what does 'namaarie' mean?  
  
And (for the second time in this story) I have received one review by e- mail:  
  
-Good Morning / Afternoon/ Evening Miss Huinesoron, my name is Mallindëiel Evenstar and I come from Argentina, South America (please, forgive me if my English is bad, I know I have to improve it). I have to say that your story, Pancakes!, it's the most funny story I have ever read!!!!! But, what about splatting Sauron, Saruman, Tom Bombandil, Lurtz, Eowyn, Arwen (please, splat her!!), Faramir, Theoden, the Balrog or maybe the troll . . . I have to see Arwen with a pancake . . . I don't know if this suggestions helps you with your lost pancake tales, I want to read more of you . . .  
  
A lot of kisses and good luck, Mallindëiel Evenstar.  
  
In reply, I say . . .  
  
Mallindeiel Evenstar: What a lovely name! I thought that your English was very good, better than that of most people I know. I'm glad you liked my story and . . . wow, loads of great ideas for splatting. Thank you very much.  
  
Thank you all veryvery much. I love you all. But now . . .  
  
No, in fact, one more thing before I go on. I have begun to notice outbreaks of pineapples amongst my readers. This began with Zoheret and Dove, several chapters ago. This chapter, not only do I receive a review from the 'Pineapple Princess', I was also presented with no less than TWO pineapples by Death Scribe.  
  
I must point out that, although pineapples are indeed wonderful things, there is no way they could stand up to a well-aimed volley of pancakes in a duel. I challenge any of the pineapple kids to face Legolas down. Go on . . . I dare you.  
  
Sorry, craziness over. Well, actally, craziness just beginning, as we move into the next chapter:  
  
Lost Pancake Tales Four: Sauron  
  
Note: This will be from Legolas' viewpoint, as . . . well, how can we tell what a giant flaming eyeball is thinking?  
  
Legolas, Prince of Mirkwood - recently turned Prince of Pancakes - poked his head around the black spike of rock. Floating above the dark roof of the tower was a huge eye, wreathed in fire. He was on Barad-Dur, and this was the Dark Lord.  
  
Reaching down for his weapon of choice, the pancake with maple syrup and sugar, the Elf discovered something he had never even dreamed was possible. All the pancakes - his only weapons - were gone!  
  
Quickly, before Sauron could detect his presence, Legolas slipped back through the portal and returned to his secret kitchen in the depths of Moria.  
  
Upon arrival, he called out immediately to his assistant pancake makers. Almost before the words had left his mouth, Chocolat Elf and Lainy had leapt out of their respective chambers and were before him.  
  
"Workers," he said, "I find myself a little weak in the weaponry department. I wish you to - what is so funny?"  
  
"Nothing, sir," the two answered.  
  
"Good. As I was saying, I require you to make some more pancakes. Go!"  
  
The two girls left the room, still giggling inanely. Legolas sighed and went through to his Strategy Room where his Second-in-Command, Bulma Greenleaf, awaited him. She rose as he entered, but the Elf Lord waved her back to her seat.  
  
"Bulma," he said, "I will not be returning here for some time. If word comes through of my fall, be sure to continue the Campaign as laid out from section five onwards."  
  
"As you wish, my Lord."  
  
At that moment the two cooks brought in a load of pancakes. Storing them away in the secret, specially designed pockets he used for these things, Legolas gave a quick nod to each of his workers and strode out of the door, back towards the portal.  
  
* * * *  
  
Okay, I know people will complain about this, but Legolas moved the kitchen out of Lorien to avoid Galadriel. Oh, and I probably won't have anyone else wandering in like the three workers just did. But hey, you never know . . .  
  
You know this bit. Review, or the secret hordes of pancake-wielding barbarians will flood your town and destroy all the firstborn. Or not, but it's a nice thought.  
  
hS 


	12. Lost Pancake Tales 4a: Let's Try That Ag...

And here we go again . . .  
  
Imbefaniel: Yes. Right. And I will splat Thanduril at some point.  
  
El loco uno: You want pancaked Sauron? Read on.  
  
Red Pirate: Actually, I agree. This is no time to be nice. Let's just let Legolas splat absolutely everyone.  
  
Merrylyn: If the Pancake Assistants ever star again, I will have a balrog discovering the kitchen. (If I remember)  
  
Oddwen: Was he really? Hehe . . .  
  
Hyacinth: Ouch, sounds nasty. If this means you don't need the morphine any more, can I have it? Nah, not really.  
  
Elanhin: No! Not the pancake bombs! Why not start a 'pancake Arwen' petition to convince me? Just a thought . . .  
  
Danielle Baggins: Of course! How could I forget Saruman? And I'm sure Pip will be more than happy to come visit you.  
  
gAmBiT: Good question. You'd have to ask her that. Go and read her stories.  
  
Oddwen: Didn't I do this a second ago? Looks up the page Ah, well. Thanks for the translation. And yes, this here is part II.  
  
Rayne: Double blink What?  
  
Bulma Greenleaf: Um . . . that was unexpected. Thank you for putting me in LoP. It's very kind of you.  
  
~Amariel~: Hooray for craziness! And well done for thanking her.  
  
Little-Lost-One: Um . . . yes, he is.  
  
Viraten: Legolas needs all his pancakes to pursue his evil aims. Sorry.  
  
~Amariel~ (again): So . . . you like pancakes, then? But I'm still male. And you're right, I probably wouldn't be able to get away with more minor characters. You never know, though.  
  
Lainy: That's alright Bows. And I'm glad you like it so much. If I use non-LoTR characters again, you will definitely be one of them. And possibly Amariel too. People *have* screamed because of me before, but usually in fear, so this is a new one.  
  
Lilac: Thanks for reviewing! The Gandalf bit was from when they were in Moria, just after they fought a load of Orcs around Balin's tomb, and before the Bridge. And I think Gollum is somewhere else at the time.  
  
Hooray for reviews! And hooray for reviewers! And . . . hooray for me getting 200 reviews! I'd like to thank everyone who made this possible. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.  
  
Now, before you all get bored and leave, how about some story?  
  
Lost Pancake Tales 4a - Let's Try That Again  
  
Legolas stood once more on the roof of Barad-Dur. Behind him, against the fiery glow of Mount Doom, the Nazgul wheeled. In front of the pillar he hid himself behind, the Eye of Sauron burned.  
  
The Eye was gazing westwards, unheeding of what was happening on its own tower. It could feel the Ring, somewhere at the Rauros Falls . . .  
  
~Amon Lhaw it touched. It glanced upon Tol Brandir . . .~  
  
As Frodo, many leagues away, threw himself from the high seat on Amon Hen, Legolas leaned around the pillar of black rock, aimed, and launched the pancake into the air.  
  
It flew towards the Dark Lord as His gaze moved swiftly to where the hobbit lay. As he was about to make contact, and establish control over the Ringbearer forever . . .  
  
SPLAT!  
  
The great eye swivelled, losing its focus in an instant. As Frodo removed the ring, the Nazgul, obedient to their master's command, swooped in at where Legolas stood, on the roof of the Dark Tower.  
  
Seeing the huge black shapes flying towards him, the elf ran for the portal, now open to his next destination. For a moment, it seemed as though he would be intercepted, but he ripped another pancake from storage and - SPLAT! - caught the hideous winged beast on which the Ringwraith rode full in the face. Then he was through the portal and in another place and time.  
  
* * * *  
  
Where is he? Do you know? Do *I* know? Who knows?  
  
How about some more reviews, people?  
  
hS 


	13. Lost Pancake Tales: Easter Special

I'm back!  
  
Elanhin: You are? I seriously couldn't tell. Don't worry about the petition, it was only a joke, but, for your peace of mind, a petition is basically a bit of paper which lots of people sign in an effort to make someone do something. Hey, my English is bad, and I'm *English*!  
  
Zoheret and Dove: Not every day, but most of them. Hooray for favourites!  
  
Legolas's Lovely Sister: How many sisters does this kid have?  
  
El loco uno: So, let's see . . . you want me to splat, um . . . who? You really ought to make that a bit clearer. And I'm 'him', not 'her'.  
  
Carterxoxo: Welcome back. The auction apparently broke Ff.net's non- interactive rule. As in, they don't like interactive stories. Sad, isn't it?  
  
Anon: Thank the Valar it wore off. I couldn't stand a MS reviewing my story. I'm afraid I'd have had to track you down and kill you. And yes, I can see that with great ease.  
  
Merrylyn: Indeed it won't. And glad you like it.  
  
Imbefaniel: No! He's not! He's . . . wait, I can't tell you that.  
  
Chocolat Elf: Away from a computer? How did you survive? And I'm glad you liked being in it. Oh . . . and one more thing. I did update!  
  
Bakachan: Um . . . hang on, I know this one . . . because I'm weird. I'm pretty sure that's it.  
  
Hooray! Chocolate day! And because of this, I've decided to post a SPECIAL EDITION. Warning: Gratuitous Fangirl splatting.  
  
Lost Pancake Tales: Easter Special  
  
(Note: This takes place at an unspecified time within the LPT timeline. It doesn't go here)  
  
Legolas returned once more to his secret kitchen, deep within the lost mines of Khazad-Dum, of Moria. There, his team of assistants awaited him.  
  
The three girls were in the meeting room, talking quietly, when the Elf entered. "Girls," he said, "our plans are proceeding well. Soon the entire free world will be under our . . . who is this?"  
  
For the girls had turned to face him. Lainy was there, as was Bulma Greenleaf, but the third figure, who he had thought was his other assistant, Chocolat Elf, was not.  
  
"Oh," said Lainy, "Chocolat Elf had to go shopping for some ingredients. So I brought in my little sister, Amariel. I hope you don't mind."  
  
"Oh, no, of course not," said Legolas sarcastically. "Why not just invite a horde of fangirls in too?"  
  
"Well," put in Bulma, "now you come to mention it . . ."  
  
Amariel, after a little shove from Lainy, walked over to the door set in the back wall and pulled it open. Outside, where there should just be the empty pits of the Dwarven mines, row upon row of girls stood. When they saw Legolas, they screamed as one and charged forward.  
  
The Elf sighed, and reached for his pancakes. Handing a pile each to Lainy, Bulma and Amariel, he said, "Girls, we have work to do. Get splatting!"  
  
And then there was no time for talk.  
  
It was several hours before the last of the screaming girls was knocked out by a well-aimed maple syrup/chocolate combination, leaving only Legolas and his three helpers standing at the centre of the massacre. The Elf turned to them and said, "Well done, girls."  
  
They swelled up with pride at this praise. Unfortunately for them, however, Legolas was not yet finished.  
  
"However, I do remember why this was necessary in the first place. And, for that -"  
  
SPLAT! SPLAT! SPLAT!  
  
The three girls wiped the pancakes from their faces, wishing that Pippin were there to act as medic. Then the door swung back. Chocolat Elf entered, carrying a plastic bag of pancake ingredients. "Hi, people," she said, not looking around, "what have I missed?"  
  
SPLAT!  
  
* * * *  
  
Well? I hope that wasn't too violent for you. And apologies to any rabid Legolas fangirls. I'm sure you're not *all* bad.  
  
Oh, and . . . Amariel? I didn't think that ruined it *too* much. And it did give an opportunity for Chocolat Elf to say a really stupid line.  
  
hS  
  
Ps. Oops, almost forgot to mention. Reviews are good. Review, or Legolas will hunt you down.  
  
hS 


	14. Lost Pancake Tales Five: Arwen

Under intense pressure, I continue.  
  
Hex of the Unseelie: You are about to find out.  
  
Tarilenea: Well done. Every chapter. Wow. And you want Arwen down? Read on.  
  
Merrylyn: Riiight . . . Edges away very slowly Legolas? You may need another pancake.  
  
Imbefaniel: But don't do that too often, or you might miss the next instalment.  
  
Chocolat Elf: See? That's why you got splatted. No computer, lots of sheep . . . you weren't in Wales, were you? And I'm beginning to thing that using Legolas as a threat was a bad idea.  
  
Kyma-Lijah-Obsessed: Your family think you're insane? Join the club.  
  
Vampire Tenshi Kage: Coo. You read everything. Slaps forehead Bilbo! How could I have forgotten Bilbo?  
  
Inweofnargothrond: Or blueberry *and* chocolate chip, perhaps?  
  
Anon: Hey, at least I'm not splatting the Fellowship anymore. Then you'd probably end up trying to save them. And how about, rather than getting the MS authors . . . the next Special involves gratuitous MarySue splatting!  
  
Fuzzy Hobbit: T'ank you. Will do.  
  
Zoheret and Dove: AIEEE!!! Rabid fangirls! Where are my pancakes? Author removes Legolas from keyboard Sorry. I read your story. It's great! Write more! And the Pineapple Award? Great! (A pineapple *necklace*? Very odd . . .)  
  
gAmBiT: Phew.  
  
Elanhin: Wunderbaum? Wonder-Tree? Um . . . no, you can't keep him. We need him. However, if you go to 'Rings of Power', you'll see that PyroElfChick has a few zillion clones of him. Why not ask her?  
  
Amariel: That's alright, I don't mind too much. And can I be crazy *and* obsessed?  
  
Elrothiel: Good idea, that. Both the Arwen thing, and sending letter bombs to BS. As to your request . . . I'll think about it. If I let too many people in, we'll a) suffer from overcrowding, and b) have everyone else wanting a place. But I'll think about it.  
  
Lainy: Well . . . I'm an LOTR fan. Legolas . . . maybe. I like the way your first review seemed to involve predicting everything that would happen in the next chapter. Hooray for irrelevant dramatic gestures! And yes, splatting mayhem. Nice phrase.  
  
Amariel: Um . . . didn't you already apologise?  
  
Izzykit: Okay. I'll wait for the next review, then.  
  
Hex of the Unseelie: Gandy . . . as in Gandalf? Didn't we do him a few back?  
  
Amariel: Um . . . I'm seventeen. Look, if I'm really that interesting my MSN address is the same as the e-mail address on my profile. I don't object to being contacted by strange people (much). And you want me to update. I did the Easter Special on Sunday. It's now Wednesday. That's three days. You, girl, are obsessed. (Which may be a good thing . . .)  
  
Yes, my dear reviewers, you are wonderful. Even the one who decided to try and e-stalk me. You know who you are.  
  
But now . . .  
  
Lost Pancake Tales Five: Arwen  
  
Or: What Peter Jackson Didn't Know When He Gave Her Glorfindel's Role  
  
Yes, It's From The Book. Is That A Problem?  
  
Arwen Undomiel sat on a bench in Imladris. The waters of the Bruinen rushed by her feet as she contemplated the news. Her father, Lord Elrond Halfelven, had received news from beyond the Baranduin, and that news was bad beyond belief.  
  
The Nine were abroad. The Ring had been found. And now it was coming to Imladris, to fair Rivendell, in the hands of a halfling, like the one who already resided in the valley.  
  
But that was not what she thought of. The halfling who bore the Ring was accompanied by three others, and by a man. The man she loved. Estel, now known as Aragorn, son of Arathorn, Isildur's heir.  
  
And the party was in danger, although they might not know it. Elrond knew not where they were, and so was sending out riders in all directions to seek them. She had been selected to take the Road, and had probably better get going.  
  
Arwen rose from her seat and turned towards the stables. Then . . .  
  
SPLAT!  
  
The half-elven maid cried out and stumbled, almost falling into the Bruinen before she caught herself. Then she reached up one hand and, with the last of her failing strength, wiped away enough of the deadly pancake to be able to breathe, and to see the blurred silhouette of an elf stepping through a blue portal. Then the world faded to black.  
  
Although Arwen was revived almost as soon as she was found, she was not deemed fit enough to still ride. Thus her place was taken by Glorfindel, and the rest, as they say, is history.  
  
* * * *  
  
Well, that was especially for all those (many) people who demanded that Arwen be got. Now then, why not review and tell me how grateful you are, huh? Because if I don't get enough reviews, I may decide not to continue . . .  
  
hS 


	15. Lost Pancake Tales Six: Saruman

'M back. Anyone miss me?  
  
Az: You think so?  
  
Elanhin: Cookies! Yay! The twins . . . were they even *in* the book?  
  
Bulma Greenleaf: You want to see Arwen get splatted again? You obsessive child! Hooray for fangirl splatting!  
  
Chocolat Elf: Diggerland. Right. I'm suitably afraid. What *is* it? Legolas is usually a bad threat, as everyone wants him to get them. Aragorn? Riiight. And I wanna join DADA! (Doesn't that acronym stand for a lot of things?) Treebeard! That's who I forgot!  
  
Amariel: Obsession is fun! And you don't *sound* like a little kid. Age is defined by the mind, not by the body. (It isn't? Well, it should be!) I don't feel at all uncomfortable about giving out my age, the information is freely available on my MSN profile. And you weren't the e-stalker I mentioned last time, in case you were worried about that.  
  
Hex of the Unseelie: Yeah . . . like I said last time, Gandal has already been got. It was chapter, um, 11, or LPT three. Hope that helps.  
  
Roseblade22: Oh, gods, where do I start responding? I know what little sisters are like, I have one myself. Ah, Glorfindel. Presumably he gets the movie version of Arwen's chapter: What Peter Jackson Knew That Tolkien Didn't. Or not. Hooray for obsession! And I'm sorry, this update took a little longer due to the onset of the dreaded Writer's Block. Seems to go with the wizards, that.  
  
Fuzzy Hobbit: Well done. Full marks for gratitudifulness. And here's your prize!  
  
Anon: Yes! I love it! Can I directly quote that line? Pleeease?  
  
Inweofnargothrond: She did, didn't she? Here's the next one!  
  
Zoheret and Dove: Or just Dove, if I'm reading this right. Ingeniousness? Thanks! And wonderfulness as well . . . wow.  
  
NickyP: Think again. Anything is possible.  
  
MK: I'm glad you like it. Even if your reviews are a little confused.  
  
gAmBiT: Aye. That Arwen girl is finally down.  
  
MK: When I run out of people from ME to splat, and if people are still reading this, I may get Legolas to come over here. Maybe. And, um . . . did you really splat your brother? If so, how did he react? I've never actually done that experiment for real. Yet.  
  
And now, at last, the one requested so many times . . .  
  
Lost Pancake Tales Six: Saruman  
  
The White Wizard sat on his throne deep within the black tower of Orthanc. Outside, his orcs were already tearing down the trees that had once made Isengard so beautiful. But he cared not. Soon he would have dominion. For now, he had to check on his adversaries.  
  
Gandalf he had imprisoned on the peak of Orthanc, but many others were still at large. And to see them, he had the perfect tool.  
  
Rising, Saruman strode to the centre of the chamber, where a plinth of black rock stood. Lifting the cloth that lay atop this, he unveiled his palantir, the most valuable item in the fortress.  
  
Gazing into the ball of crystal, the Wizard's gaze swept out across Middle earth. He saw Frodo, Sam, Merry and Pippin in the woods around the Shire. He saw Aragorn, the future King of Gondor, striding down the road towards the town of Bree. He saw Elrond, sitting in Imladris, secure in his stronghold as Saruman was in his.  
  
Two sensations hit him then. One was out to the east, a feeling that someone else was using one of the Seeing Stones, someone less adept at hiding himself than Saruman was. The other was more immediate, a feeling that there was someone else in the room.  
  
He glanced up, but saw only the black walls of the chamber. Then his eyes were drawn back down as the focus of the palantir slipped further east, and locked on Mordor.  
  
In the shadows at the back of the room, a dark shape detached itself from the wall and crept forward.  
  
The will of Saruman wrestled with that of the Dark Lord, heedless of all external happenings. And it was this that was to be his undoing. For he did not notice the cloaked shape looming behind him until . . .  
  
SPLAT!  
  
The connection broke as the White Wizard stumbled back from the palantir. As he crumpled into a heap on the stone cold floor, his robes pilling around him, he thought he heard the sound of an elf, laughing . . .  
  
* * * *  
  
Well? What do you think? Is it worth a review? Oh, please do say yes. They please me so . . .  
  
hS 


	16. Lost Pancake Tales Seven: Bilbo

I'm back! And I'm writing from school again! Yay!  
  
Mk: Do you know, I think I've started an epidemic! Soon the sound of merry splatting will be heard all over the globe! And sorry, I meant confus*ing*.  
  
Inweofnargothrond: No he doesn't, he has all the assistants he needs down in Moria. Unless the Plot says differently . . .  
  
Az: Glad you liked it.  
  
Merrylyn: Peter Jackson! Yes! If I ever bring Legolas out here, I'll get PJ first. And he cannot be stopped! Even Pippin could only slow him down.  
  
Fuzzy Hobbit: Not yet, but I think they're in the plan. I have a list of about 20 more names before I have to start thinking.  
  
Pineapple Princess: No, no-one should take on Legolas, Lord of the Pancakes. And who is this Figwit? The web address doesn't seem to work.  
  
Chocolat Elf: You get to ride diggers. Oh. How. Much. Fun. Is. That. And yes, the Aragorn thing is seriously weird. Updating!  
  
Elanhin: Yay! Reviews! They're great! And yes, muahahaha!  
  
Amariel: Not sarcasm? Good. Some people don't like my writing. Although . . . that's usually because they die in it. Whoops . . . Eyes glow red FIRE!!!!! Fire is fun! And you read my profile? Well done! I like to be called the Lord of all Darkness, Ruler of the Earth and Destroyer of All People Who Don't Like Fire, but 'Huinesoron' will do. And this was the last review, so I didn't have any more to read.  
  
And now, live from Coopers' Coborn School, the next edition!  
  
Lost Pancake Tales Seven: Bilbo  
  
Bilbo Baggins rested in Rivendell. After his Adventure with the dwarves, all those years ago, he had always liked the little valley. Therefore, when he left the Shire for the last time, it seemed an ideal place for him to rest.  
  
Now, they told him, his nephew Frodo was coming to Rivendell, and the Dunedain was with him. That was good. Frodo would be safe - at least until he arrived.  
  
Because they also told him that there was something evil loose in Imladris. The Lady Arwen had been attacked as she was about to go and find Frodo, but the elves wouldn't tell him exactly how. They never thought that *he* might be in danger, oh no.  
  
Ah, well. There was nothing he could do. With a sigh, the old hobbit sat down on the stone bench behind him and began to work on his new poem.  
  
He had got no further than the first line, however, when an elf he didn't recognise came up to him. The elf seemed to be holding something behind his back, but Bilbo had been brought up to be polite, and so set down his pen and asked, "Was there something I could help you with?" The elf stared at him, then shook himself and said, "Sorry. I was just surprised to see a Halfling here already."  
  
Bilbo nodded. "I am an old hobbit, and I came here to live out the rest of my days in peace."  
  
The elf smiled. "I think, actually, you may be able to help me. Where is the Lord Elrond?"  
  
Bilbo thought for a moment. "I believe he is in the Great Hall at this hour."  
  
"Thank you, friend. And now, I am afraid, you must be silenced."  
  
Bilbo started to ask what he meant, but the elf swung his arm around and . . .  
  
SPLAT!  
  
As the pancaked Bilbo slumped to the floor, he heard the elf's footprints move off towards the Great Hall and the unsuspecting Elrond.  
  
* * * *  
  
Yes, I know, it's cruel. But I had to.  
  
Has anyone noticed how a plot appears to be forming? It shouldn't, this is supposed to be a string of unconnected events. But, alas, continuity will find a way. And so will I . . . a way to get REVIEWS! Go on, review! Please?  
  
hS 


	17. Lost Pancake Tales Eight: Elrond

Back again.  
  
Merrylyn: Yes, it's scary, isn't it? And I agree. But Gandalf was as bad. 'Oh, Frodo, your uncle has left you an obviously evil ring. Let's wait about twenty yearsd and then try and destroy it.'  
  
Amariel: Uh-oh? I think not. And what happened to 'I just like to talk'?  
  
Elanhin: The twins again. Yes, I'll get them sometime. If I remember.  
  
Moron: In that case, this story's perfect for you. And there *will* be MS's in this . . . hehe.  
  
Az: I don't recall Bilbo ever meeting Legolas in the film. In the book, yes, but . . . let's say this one was from the film, huh?  
  
Fuzzy Hobbit: Great! Thanks! And good guess. Now, get back to that project! Well . . . not before reading this. Namaarie! (Why is that not in my list of elvish words?)  
  
Roseblade22: Glad you liked it. Glad you're glad I read your fic. Glorfindel is on the list (a very long list). Splatting himself? That's nasty! You're messing with my mind!  
  
Anon: Yay! Thank you! It is such a great line! I've evne got a plot worked out for that episode (which I can't tell you yet, obviously). Just desserts . . . is that a joke?  
  
Moridin: Never seen that one. I'll have to look it up.  
  
Imbefaniel: Not quite take over, but . . . well. Yes. Puppy? Shakes head in despair  
  
Chocolat Elf: Are the plots plotting against me? Fire! Dragons! YAY!!!!! You read Discworld? Have you read my Discworld story? But what's a 'glomp'?  
  
Hex of the Unseelie: Yup, he's doing that already. And I'm sure you knew. Ahem.  
  
And congratulations to those of you who guessed where he was going next. Not that it was too difficult . . .  
  
Lost Pancake Tales Eight: Elrond  
  
Elrond Halfelven, Lord of Imladris, was entertaining in the Great Hall when there came a knock at the door. He gestured to one of the elves near the portal, and the great oak doors were swung back.  
  
~A/N: I'm writing this at school again, have no copy of LOTR with me, and have no idea if my descriptions of Rivendell are at all accurate. Sorry~  
  
Through the entrance came an elf, one of the people of Rivendell whose name Elrond could not quite remember. Moving swiftly to the high table, the elf whispered to his lord, "There is an elf outside who wishes to see you, Lord Elrond, but he declines to enter.  
  
Elrond sighed. "Very well."  
  
Rising, he aid, "I shall be gone but a few minutes. Pray entertain yourselves until my return." And with that, he strode out.  
  
The other elf led him down towards the river Bruinen, but instead of reaching it turned right into a tree lined avenue. Then he vanished, as only an elf or hobbit can.  
  
Elrond stood, debating the best course of action. The wisest thing to do, especially with the unknown evil loose in the valley, would be to return immediately to the Hall. And yet . . . he was curious as to who had sent for him.  
  
As he stood, locked in this dilemma, he heard a soft noise behind him. Turning, he had a brief glimpse of a figure cloaked and hooded in black, before . . .  
  
SPLAT!  
  
The half-elf staggered back, but being of a stronger constitution than most was not knocked out by the pancake. Then he slammed into a tree, and knew no more.  
  
The elves found him the next day. Even with an accelerated healing, he was only just well again when Estel arrived, bringing four hobbits with him.  
  
* * * *  
  
One word. REVIEW!  
  
hS 


	18. Lost Pancake Tales Nine: Faramir

After a weekend away, I'm back on the case. As I am with a few other stories. I'm updating a lot right now, aren't I?  
  
Zoheret and Dove: Funny? Thanks. School . . . it should be banned! It stops me working on this, which must be a crime!  
  
Caz-baz: I must point this out immediately; you appear to be utterly insane. Apart from that, you appear to be pancake- and guitar-obsessed and reviewing from the middle of a field. All in all, a typical pancakes reviewer. But I'm glad you like it.  
  
Elanhin: Um, not, I think. It wouldn't be fair to get him for a second (third?) time, now would it? Actually . . .  
  
Chocolat Elf: AIEE!!! Plotting plots! How about 'the coolest universe in the Multiverse'? And many thanks for the definition. 'Tiara boy'? Hmm.  
  
Tiani: Of course you have my permission to make it into a comic! That sounds like a great idea! And how could I forget Gollum (or at least, forget to write him down)? A glomp, as defined by Chocolat Elf, is an enthusiastic hug. Search me . . .  
  
Imbefaniel: Aw, what a pity. And black should be worn all the time! Black is great!  
  
Firestar: Someone flamed you? How dare they? That is EVIL! I must go and see. Back in a mo. ~Time passes~ Dear Valar, that is horrible! How can anyone do such a thing? (Calm, calm . . . calm. Good) You like? Thanks! And . . . oh, no, not another Sparky!  
  
Merrylyn: Yay! Bouncy bouncy Elrond! And I'm not sure, but I feel his poor eyebrows may never be the same again.  
  
Anon: I agree, His Lordship was terribly cruel. And why didn't he go with the Fellowship, rather than cowering back in Imladris? He's pathetic.  
  
TDF-san: I'm going to assume this review made sense, 'cos I didn't understand it. Catnip? Boingy!  
  
Carrie: Ah . . . the great mystery. I think he keeps baking them, then carries a large number with him at a time. Possibly in his quiver.  
  
Tarilenea: Not true, Sauron liked him. But as for who's next . . . well, you already found that out. But BilboBetrayal is fun!  
  
Person named bob: Four words. Not For A While.  
  
Hex of the Unseelie: But is it really sad? If there are many to spalt, the story will be very long. And that's good . . . isn't it?  
  
Satsuki: Thank you for reading. And of *course* I'm writing more! Try and stop me!  
  
Amariel: No, it isn't. But see the end of the story for the full version.  
  
Roseblade22: The list as it currently stands is at the end of this chapter. And how could you eat the pancakes? That is just plain silly! They should be put to proper use. For example, splatting your little sister.  
  
Bulma Greenleaf: I don't care how irregularly you review if it means your stories happen faster. And splatting your own father is just mean! But a good idea.  
  
Yay! I broke 300! Thank you to everyone, especially my long term readers!  
  
And now, live from Middle Earth Studios . . .  
  
Lost Pancake Tales Nine: Faramir  
  
Due to the high level of alarm in Imladris, and the presence of so many who could recognise him, Legolas moved out and *forward* from there to Ithilien, around the time Frodo and Sam were in the Dead Marshes with Gollum.  
  
Faramir, son of Denethor Steward of Gondor, gazed out of Henneth Annun, the Window on the West. In the distance he could see a bright speck, all that was visible of the White City, his home.  
  
Behind him, in the shadows along the walls, something moved.  
  
Faramir sighed, then turned and strode out towards the waterfall and the Forbidden Pool, passing opposite the unnoticed shadow en route.  
  
Once he had left the chamber, the dark figure pulled its hood back to reveal Legolas, Prince of Mirkwood and Lord of the Pancakes.  
  
"Blast," he muttered, "why couldn't he wait until I was in position? Ah, well, needs must. Plan B. Although it will mean I go home early. Why am I talking to myself?"  
  
Faramir stood on the ledge. Beside him, the waterfall roared, ceaselessly flowing into the Pool. All was silent. But was it?  
  
High on the cliff above him, Faramir heard a sound. Squinting up, he noticed a dark shape, from which detached a cluster of brownish objects. Which fell towards him, scattering, and . . .  
  
SPLAT! SPLAT!  
  
The sudden impact of two of the falling pancakes on his face slammed into Faramir's consciousness like a nail into wood. He staggered back, rebounded off the cliff, slipped on one of the pancakes that had missed, and . . . fell down towards the pool.  
  
The depth was sufficient that he was unharmed, but was instead found hours later by two of his men, lying unconscious in the shallows.  
  
* * * *  
  
Well? What do you think? Where's he going now? Who's he getting next? Is Huinesoron entirely sane? Why aren't you reviewing?  
  
hS  
  
Oh, and one final note: For all those of you who asked, my current SplatList is at 28, not including those already done. It reads, in no particular order:  
  
Glorfindel, the Nazgul, Eomer, Eowyn, Wormtongue, Theoden, Treebeard, Denethor, Cirdan, Gollum, Smaug, 13 dwarves (including Thorin), Thanduril, Orcs (including named ones), a Balrog, Tom Bombadil, the Twins, Morgoth/Melkor, Luthien Tinuviel, Hurin, Turin, Beren, Feanor, the Council of Valar, Eru, Thingol, Melian, and the bane of Middle Earth, the Mary- Sues. And, of course, some of these, the groups, may be split up further. So I'm not going to finish any time soon.  
  
We thank you for your time.  
  
I just *know* I'm now going to get hundreds of reviews saying 'You forgot X! How could you?'. Ah, well . . .  
  
hS 


	19. Lost Pancake Tales Ten: The Mary Sue

Hi!  
  
Aragorn67: Alright, alright! I will if I remember.  
  
Imbefaniel: Remember that the portal is a space and *time* portal.  
  
Tarilenea: What? Where does Sauron come into this? And I don't *think* that Glorfindel and Gil-galad are the same. But you never can tell with these elves.  
  
Firestar: Yeah, I know. But he had to be got. And I think most people would react in a similar way on reading what that . . . thing wrote.  
  
Fuzzy Hobbit: Well done for doing the project. And thanks for liking my mad story.  
  
Anon: Death to the Mary Sues indeed. You should like this chapter. And Elrond has never been too nice. Although Faramir used to be. Let's send voodoo dolls to Peter Jackson, yes?  
  
Pineapple Princess: Figwit, Ferelvedir, Uruviel. And lots of other random elf extras. I'll get them all around episode twenty. And I read your story. (Did I review? I can't remember)  
  
Merrylyn: I didn't think of that. I suspect, as his men are so loyal, they'll sort of forget he did that. Maybe. We hope.  
  
Elanhin: Yay! Another convert to the way of madness. And I update a lot because I have nothing better to do. You know, I'm meant to be revising . . .  
  
Bulma Greenleaf: Fear is struck into my heart by your threats. I will continue, to avoid the wrath of Bulma.  
  
Oddwen: Well, as I have no ideas, that may still happen.  
  
Zoheret and Dove: Um . . . I'll just leave you two to your conversation, shall I? But you shouldn't want Faramir to die.  
  
Chocolat Elf: We go for equal rights here. The Right to Get Splatted is just one of those we support. And sanity is overrated.  
  
Phishykis: This chapter is longer, but long chapters would be out slower.  
  
Amariel: Ah. I'm glad you asked me that. 'hS' is 'Huinesoron'. If I write the main letters, the h and s, in the Feanorian letters given in the appendices to LotR, I put a small h in a larger s. So . . . hS it became. And I shall of course continue to pancake.  
  
Az: As you wish.  
  
Musikfan: Thanks! I'm glad you like it!  
  
Roseblade22: Long term entertainment is good! And cupcakes are good, but not as useful as pancakes.  
  
TDF-san: Please tell me that was a joke. 'X' is just anyone not on the list. And of course you can use the pancake idea. Our fame will continue to spread . . .  
  
Satsuki: You cannot have Legolas! We need him for the story, and I will *not* rent him from you!  
  
Liliac: Ah, well. I can't be completely consistent. Suspend reality for a moment.  
  
Hex of the Unseelie: Not nice!  
  
Danielle Baggins: Um . . . right. I think I won't use Pip any more, then.  
  
Zephyr: Okay, I didn't mean to leave it open ended. I thought 'unconcious' was rather clear.  
  
And now, the moment you've all been waiting for . . .  
  
Lost Pancake Tales Ten: The Mary Sue  
  
Due to the necessary waste of so many pancakes during his last attack, Legolas returned to the Kitchen in Moria for more supplies. When they saw him, Lainy, Amariel and Chocolat Elf, his three Supply Agents, said, as one, "Welcome back!"  
  
On hearing this, Bulma Greenleaf poked her head around the door of the conference room and said, "Oh . . . hi. I'm just finalising the plans for Section Six. But you're back early, so they're not quite finished."  
  
The elf nodded. "Thank you, Bulma. I'll come and check on those immediately."  
  
But just as he was about to do so, there was a knock at the back door of the complex. Legolas glared at it for a second until Amariel scuttled over and opened it.  
  
A tall elf stepped through, but one so unlike other elves that the five stared at him in bewilderment. His jet black hair dropped down his back until it merged with the equally dark coat, which reached to the floor.  
  
Behind him, a girl entered. Without giving them a chance to speak, he said, "Hi, people, I'm Huinesoron. This is Elrothiel. She's your new helper. Oh, and . . . Legolas? Here."  
  
The elf in black handed Legolas a sealed note, then swept out of the room as silently as he had come. Five of the six occupants of the room stared after him, stunned. Elrothiel stared at Legolas instead.  
  
"Who was *that*?" exclaimed Chocolat Elf. Elrothiel tore her gaze from Legolas and replied, "I think he said something about . . . writing? Maybe. I'm not sure . . ." Then she went back to staring at Legolas.  
  
Suddenly, Lainy remembered. "The note, Lord! Perhaps that will explain it!"  
  
"Of course! How could I forget?"  
  
Legolas ripped the envelope open, and then stared in confusion at the contents. Lainy, Amariel and Chocolat Elf came over and stared too. Elrothiel stared at Legolas.  
  
Bulma came over. "What is it?" she asked. In silence, Legolas showed her the note.  
  
" 'Don't look in their eyes. Don't let them sing. hS.' What does that mean?"  
  
"I don't know," replied the elf. Then Amariel cried, "Who's that?"  
  
The others turned to look at whatever it was she had seen. Elrothiel stared at Legolas.  
  
"You there," called Legolas, "Who are you?"  
  
Instead of replying, the figure stepped out into the light. Legolas gasped at the beauty of the elf maid he saw before him. Then, softly, she began to sing. He found himself drawn towards her, transfixed by her glowing eyes and hypnotised by her voice.  
  
It was Elrothiel who saved him. Breaking from her own trance, she lunged for the stack of pancakes with a cry of "Leave Legolas alone, he's mine!"  
  
The elf maid stopped singing on hearing this, and screamed, "Like, don't hurt me! You can't throw pancakes at me! I'm Elenwen, the second daughter of Galadriel and Celebor-"  
  
SPLAT!  
  
As the elf-shaped creature crumpled to the ground, Legolas broke from his trance. Looking over at Elrothiel, who almost fainted under the attention, he said, "Thank you. I know now what that creature was. A Mary-Sue, the most evil beings in Middle Earth. Now I understand the letter. But what was that you shouted to distract her?"  
  
"Oh . . . er . . ." the girl stuttered, "I said something about you being . . . mine?"  
  
"Aha. I thought so."  
  
Without warning, Legolas reached over for the pile of pancakes and . . .  
  
SPLAT!  
  
As the pancaked girl slumped to the floor beside the Mary Sue, Chocolat Elf asked, "What did you do that for?"  
  
"She was a fangirl in disguise," replied Legolas. "Didn't you see the way she was looking at me?"  
  
"She could just have been an ordinary girl!"  
  
"Really? No great loss there then. But look at her arm." And he pulled up her sleeve to reveal the 'Legolas Is Mine!' tattoo. The four helpers stared at it. Elrothiel stared at nothing, as her eyes were closed. But Legolas did not let them look for long.  
  
Dropping the arm, he said, "Take her, and that *thing* over there, away. Far away. I'm going back out to finish Section Five."  
  
Within five minutes, the Kitchen Complex was deserted.  
  
* * * *  
  
Well? What did you think? *Did* you think? I'm pretty sure I didn't.  
  
Ah, well. Review, please?  
  
hS 


	20. Lost Pancake Tales Eleven: The Nazgul

I'm back! Again!  
  
Merrylyn: Why not do something about them as well? I only got one, there are still hundreds out there.  
  
Imbefaniel: Yes, MS's are evil. Happy birthday.  
  
Elanhin: O-kay . . . why does everyone want Aragorn all of a sudden? Down with Mary-Sues!  
  
Chocolat Elf: Your birthday too? Happy birthday! And I'm sure Legolas says the same. Me? Obsessed? Never! (Ahem) And I don't really have long hair. Honest. No reviews are too long.  
  
Amariel: The things you learn about yourself . . .  
  
Roseblade22: Yeees . . . hyper is good, I guess, if it makes you review. Who's next? These guys.  
  
Zoheret and Dove: Um. Yes. Okay. Right. I'm sure you don't have the tattoo. And please don't glare at each other so much that you forget to review.  
  
Anon: Alright, he can have *some* credit. But not much. And you're not a fangirl? Good.  
  
Fuzzy Hobbit: Thank you! I like it when people say it's hilarious.  
  
TDF-san: Mary Sues can write? I'm amazed. You just keep attacking them.  
  
Phishykiss: Yes. Thanks.  
  
Firestar: Matrix! Yay! Matrix Reloaded! Yay! Great jobs! Yay!  
  
Raven Firedragon: Thanks. She wanted to be a fangirl, honest! And she should know what Legolas does to them. Fangirls of my own? Ugh. Nasty.  
  
Bulma Greenleaf: Yes, you're still in the story. How could I lose such an interesting character? And I read that chapter. Thank you!  
  
Amariel: Thank you, again. And the little helpers are . . . um . . . I don't know. What do you *want* to be?  
  
Hex of the Unseelie: Yes, darn them. Like socks . . . um, maybe not. Next chapter is here at last.  
  
Satsuki: Well, if we ever give him leave, I'll make sure he has your address. And I'm sure you aren't a Mary Sue.  
  
Legolas-lover-baby: Alright, alright! No more trances. Yet.  
  
Pineapple Princess: Good, I thought I had. I was amazed too. I was going to stop after chapter 7, but then it went into overload. And I'm almost finished this chapter. Finally.  
  
Oddwen: Hmm, anti-Legolas-Fangirl. You may not want to tell them that.  
  
Viraten: Indeed.  
  
Now, what next? Oh, yes . . .  
  
Lost Pancake Tales Eleven: The Nazgul  
  
Or, Why There Were Only Five Wraiths At Weathertop  
  
After the disaster in Moria, Legolas took all the pancakes that were prepared for him and set off again, through time and space, to see his next victims.  
  
This would be the greatest challenge yet. Never had he tried for so many targets at one. And now . . .  
  
The nine black horses swept around a bend of the road, their cloaked and hooded riders bent low over their necks. On the horizon, the great watchtower of Amon Sul loomed against the darkening sky. It was to this that they were heading. Sooner or later, the one with their master's Ring would come there. And they would be waiting.  
  
In the bushes beside the road, something moved. The Lord of the Nazgul let out a shriek, and all nine came to a halt. The Witch-Kind dismounted and walked towards the disturbance. Looking down he saw, with invisible eyes, a pancake, lying in the dirt. Puzzled, he lent over to inspect it further . . .  
  
A cacophony of screeches from behind made him look up and swing round. The other eight wraiths were stumbling around, clawing at the pancakes covering their faces. In the centre stood an elf, his aura strong but dark.  
  
As the Morgul Lord pulled his sword, the elf smiled, then swung his arm around and . . .  
  
SPLAT!  
  
When the Nine were once again stable, able to remount, their Lord sent four off to seek out the elf and make him pay. After all, they were not likely to encounter the Ring party as soon as they reached Weathertop, and even if they did, surely five of them could deal with four miserable hobbits . . .  
  
* * * *  
  
Does anyone else think this is getting very silly? No, wait . . . it started off very silly, didn't it? Ah, well. Nevermind.  
  
hS 


	21. Lost Pancake Tales Twelve: Tom Bombadil

Back again, people. Hope the wait wasn't too long this time.  
  
Kyma: Thanks! And the wait is over. Again.  
  
Chocolat Elf: Yes, it's exam time. Not SATs, but AS-levels. Equally evil. I agree! Silliness is good! And I can do silly. Which one is Kahmul? And do you happen to know what the Witch King himself is called? I agree, not reviewing is stealing. And with a DVD player, you can watch the special Extended Editions of the Lord of the Rings films, wit all the extras! Yay!  
  
Imbefaniel: I agree, you're nuts. But don't be scared, he won't get you.  
  
Elanhin: Thank you. Ah, I see, that's what it is.  
  
Merrylyn: Yes, Dark Legolas is great. I didn't expect it to turn out like this either. I didn't expect to get beyond ten. Yay! Kill them all!  
  
Anon: I know, I just get confused. I'm not sure there can ever be 'few' Ringwraiths, but yes, it does explain it. I wonder how Tolkien knew. . .  
  
Bilbo-san: A new name? So why the overheat?  
  
Hex of the Unseelie: Thank you. And I will try not to take so long, although I doubt you'll get any over summer, if we keep going that long. Sorry.  
  
Satsuki: When we've finished, you can keep him. Until then, he'll turn up whenever he can. And I'm sure he'll find you. He's good at that. You graduate in eight days? Well done. Be hyper.  
  
Bulma Greenleaf: That's nice, I do the same for your stories (Hinthint). What will be next? This!  
  
Viraten: Yes, absolutely.  
  
Amariel: Glitch! Glitch! I've received the same review five times! It took so long because the ideas stopped flowing, and because I was revising for exams. I should still be revising, but I decided to do this instead. No, you weren't getting annoying. I will keep the chapters coming as long as there are reviews to make me feel wanted. And well done for stealing Pip's line.  
  
Fuzzy Hobbit: Thank you for your appreciation. A 'plot'? What is this thing? How does it work? And hyper? You? Surely not!  
  
So, with that, we move on to . . .  
  
Lost Pancake Tales Twelve: Tom Bombadil  
  
Having saved the Ringbearer and his companions from death, thus ensuring his own eventual arrival in Lorien, Legolas decided to move onto one of the most persistently annoying people of Middle Earth, who conveniently lived but a short distance away.  
  
Tom Bombadil was wandering around in the Old Forest, near his home. As he walked he was humming to himself, thinking up more jolly songs to sing, if hobbit-folk should happen by.  
  
He was thinking of starting with the words 'Tom, Tom, Bombadillo', but couldn't think of a suitable following line. Sighing, he went over to his garden. Perhaps some of the 'herbs' he grew there would help him to think. And if they didn't . . . well, the colours would be pretty anyway.  
  
Just as he was trying to decide which to use, however, there came a scream from Goldberry, inside the house, followed by a noise that sounded suspiciously like 'splat'. Tom's head jerked up and, forgetting his plants, he ran for the door.  
  
On the threshold, he paused, shocked. Inside, the River Daughter lay, her face covered in some form of pastry. And, in the shadows beside the door, a cloaked figure waited.  
  
Before Bombadil could speak, the figure stepped forward. "For your incredibly long life, your misuse of the plants of this forest, and for your terrible singing voice, you, Iarwain Ben-adar, are about to be . . ."  
  
SPLAT!  
  
" . . . pancaked. Have a nice day."  
  
With that, as Tom slumped to the floor, the dark figure stalked out of the door and vanished as silently as he had come.  
  
Tom did not sing again for the rest of the year, until spring came and he went out once more to gather lilies for Goldberry. The dark stranger had done his job well.  
  
* * * *  
  
So. What did you think?  
  
I personally think these are getting much darker, but hey, maybe that's just because I'm currently splatting evil people. The Mary Sue, the Nazgul, Bombadil . . .  
  
hS 


	22. Lost Pancake Tales Thirteen: Barliman Bu...

Hiyo, people. Mesa back!  
  
Imbefaniel: I think I will have to improve Legolas' spirit. Maybe next time he goes to Moria, we can do something.  
  
Anon: Well, I guess he's not too bad. Just a little depressingly cheerful. Still, nevermind.  
  
Firestar: Thank you! No, I haven't, but I *will* see that film!  
  
Kyma: He should have got lessons. He's old enough.  
  
Merrylyn: You like the darkness? Enjoy it, it can't last forever.  
  
Oddwen: Alright, he's not evil. Fine. Good. PJ is evil anyway, just for what he did to Faramir. Go figure.  
  
Tarilenea: You're confused? Poor you. Thanks for reviewing anyway.  
  
Emi Lou: Yay! Someone hates me! If anyone wants to see why, read the review. And it's supposed to be pointless.  
  
Fuzzy Hobbit: Yay! Another Dark Legolas fan! Weirdness is good.  
  
Elanhin: Yes! He is! Someone agrees with me! Yay!  
  
?: Maybe next time.  
  
Amariel: Aw, poor you. The computer is evil.  
  
Chocolat Elf: Goldberry didn't do anything. Exams are nassssty. Kahmul is apparently Looks in 'Unfinished Tales' the second in command. Was in charge of Dol Guldur, nearly caught the hobbits at the Bucklebury Ferry. Ebay might have it. Maybe. No! Not the purple cows! I update!  
  
Amariel: You want to be pancaked? Mad! Even for an author to be.  
  
Satsuki: Elrond and Galadriel have both already been got. Don't threaten Legolas! We need him!  
  
Caroline: Thank you. Gollum! Must remember Gollum. Yes, you can join. Welcome aboard.  
  
Which just about ends that. And now, the story.  
  
Lost Pancake Tales Thirteen: Barliman Butterbur  
  
Barliman Butterbur, innkeeper at the Prancing Pony of Bree, had just come down from clearing up the mess that had been made of the hobbit room a few nights previously. He knew he should have done it before, but tonight his bar was nearly empty, so he had time.  
  
Looking over at the corner of the room he noticed that the ranger, Strider, seemed to be sitting in his accustomed place. This seemed odd. Butterbur's memory might not be the best in Middle Earth, but he definitely recalled the ranger going with those four hobbits who'd caused such a commotion.  
  
As he stared, the figure seemed to sense his gaze, and rose. It came towards him, black cape billowing, and no longer bore any resemblance to Strider. Instead, it seemed to be one of those - he gasped - one of those Black Riders.  
  
It drew nearer, and his nerve broke, setting him babbling. "They're not here anymore, they've gone east, left days ago, I couldn't do anythi-"  
  
The figure raised a hand, interrupting him. Then a voice spoke from under the hood.  
  
"Mr. Butterbur," it said, soft yet deadly, "you mistake my intent. It is not for them that I have come. It is for *you*."  
  
The innkeeper's eyes grew wide. "M-me?" he figure nodded, then whipped its arm around and . . .  
  
SPLAT!  
  
Butterbur slumped back against a table, clawing at his face. But he could not dislodge the pancake. Slowly, he slipped into unconsciousness.  
  
* * * *  
  
Well, c'est ca. How about a review? Preferably a nice one.  
  
hS 


	23. Lost Pancake Tales Fourteen: Glorfindel

It's me again.  
  
Kyma: Glad you like it. How was DC?  
  
Zen kitten: Thank you *so* much. But is laughing in the library such a good idea?  
  
Anon: Thanks. I know far too many depressingly cheerful people. It's just terrible. Ugh.  
  
Merrylyn: Glad you like it, even if it is only because you've had too much chocolate. Yes, more evil Legolas.  
  
Elanhin: Well, that's nice to know.  
  
Chocolat Elf: That was a scarily good fangirl impression. I'll do Treebeard when he gets to Rohan. Promise.  
  
Hex Of The Unseelie: Glad you're amused.  
  
Amariel: But I am writing others! And I have more planned. Don't worry, I won't stop. /Edges away/ You're starting to sound like a Huinesoron fangirl . . .  
  
Baby Anne: Okay, okay, threaten away. As long as it's not permanent.  
  
Firestar: I'm afraid I can't tell you that. And yes, sinister is what he has become. Poor Legolas.  
  
Liliac: They don't die, they just get knocked out. It may be the smell. And they don't stick to his hands because . . . because they only become sticky when thrown. Yes.  
  
Huinesoron's Fangirl: /Rolls eyes/ Thanks.  
  
Imbefaniel: Yes, poor, poor Butterbur. But would you have him stop?  
  
Tiani Lunaris: Poor you, your artistic abilities have failed you. Exams are evil I'm doing some myself. Ugh.  
  
Viraten: I'll get them when I go to Rohan and Gondor. Promise.  
  
And here we have . . .  
  
Lost Pancake Tales Fourteen: Glorfindel  
  
Or: What Peter Jackson Knew That Tolkien Didn't When He Gave Arwen Glorfindel's Role  
  
The Opposite Of LPT Five  
  
Through the green trees of Imladris, a silent figure, clad in black, moved. In front of it, half concealed by the foliage, an elf sat on a stone bench. Closer it moved . . .  
  
Glorfindel sat, contemplating. According to Lord Elrond, there were visitors coming, pursued by evil. That was believable. However, Glorfindel wasn't too sure about the rumour that the 'evil' was in fact the Nine, or that the visitors had the One Ring with them. Ah, well. Time would tell.  
  
And now, he had to go out and look for them. He'd been assigned to search along the Road towards Bree, on the offchance that they might be following it. Arwen wasn't too happy, claiming she should go instead, that she was a better rider. And that wasn't true, he'd been ill that day.  
  
But Elrond said she couldn't, so Glorfindel got to go instead. The elf smiled. Trust a father to be overprotective. But now he had to get a move on, or she might just steal his horse and go anyway.  
  
Gracefully, the elf rose, turned, and . . .  
  
SPLAT!  
  
As the smell of the pancake ran through him, Glorfindel slumped to the ground. His last thought before dropping into unconsciousness was that now, Arwen would get her wish. Then all was black.  
  
* * * *  
  
Sorry if it isn't very good. I don't think this one is, but that's just me.  
  
hS 


	24. Lost Pancake Tales Fifteen: Back To The ...

Hi! I'm here again!  
  
Bulma Greenleaf: Don't worry, I've had that happen to me, too. Thanks anyway.  
  
Chocolat Elf: You do realise that you submitted two almost identical reviews, don't you? No, we hadn't already had Glorfindel, we've had Arwen. How many fangirls do I have? Oh, god! France, and no computer! Did you survive?  
  
Kyma: Glad to hear you had fun. And glad you like it.  
  
Elanhin: I like most of the characters, but it is my duty to splat them, or at least get Legolas to do it for me. Don't worry about the spelling, I don't mind.  
  
Merrylyn: Yes, he was, wasn't he? Evil Arwen! Die, Arwen, die!!!!!  
  
Bilbo-san: Hmm . . . I think not. Group splatting are tricky.  
  
Baby Anne: Ah, a mood swing. Now I see. Almost graduated? I bet you can't wait.  
  
Bulma Greenleaf: I write another chapter now! And I got the review *after* I posted the chapter. Sorry.  
  
Amariel: Elves can't get sick, but I think they *can* be poisoned. Maybe. Okay, now you say that one of your better friends is someone who you only communicate with by review. It could be worse, some of *my* best friends don't exist outside my head. (-That's us! =Yup! ^Happy! ~You'd better believe it!) Sorry. Couldn't stop them. All my stories are on my profile, as linked from the 'Huinesoron' button at the top of this page. All new ones will be there too.  
  
Imbefaniel: Depressed? No, just sliding into darkness.  
  
Now, back to Middle Earth once more, for . . .  
  
Lost Pancake Tales Fifteen: Back To The Mines  
  
Lainy, Bulma Greenleaf and Chocolat Elf were sitting at the table in the conference room off the Kitchen, playing cards to pass the time, when suddenly the door burst open. The three looked up with mild interest as Amariel burst in. The half-elven girl looked at hem and shouted, "He's back! He's back!"  
  
"Already?" cried Lainy. "But why? It hasn't been long enough!"  
  
"I don't know!" replied the other, "but he's-"  
  
"Right here," said a voice from the door. Amariel turned slowly to see Legolas, her lord and master, standing in the door. She gulped, her throat suddenly dry. "Sorry, Lord," she muttered.  
  
"Oh, don't apologise. I'm sure you were just anxious to have everything ready for my return, right?"  
  
She looked up. "Um, yes, that's it exactly, Lord."  
  
He stared at her. "Don't lie to me, Amariel."  
  
SPLAT!  
  
The girl slumped to the floor, knocked out by the pancake. The other three assistants looked down at her. Then Legolas smiled grimly. "Lainy," he said, "take your sister and get her sorted out, will you?"  
  
"Yes, sir," the other said, and dragged Amariel out into the hallway. Legolas looked back at his remaining assistants. "Now, then," he began, but was cut off by a thunderous knocking on the door. With a sigh, the elf gestured at Bulma, who nodded and moved to open it.  
  
Through the portal stepped a familiar shape, all in black. Behind it was a shortish elf girl, but it was the first figure that Legolas focussed his attention on. "Ah, Mr Huinesoron," said the Lord of the Pancakes, "have you come to give us another fangirl?"  
  
Huinesoron looked shocked. "I'm sorry, was Elrothiel a fangirl?"  
  
"Yes," replied Legolas, "she was. As I'm sure you knew!" He swung his arm around, loosing another pancake, and . . .  
  
There was a blinding flash of light, and the pancake was incinerated in mid- flight. When everyone's vision had cleared they saw Huinesoron standing with one arm stretched in fromto of him, black cape flowing away from its silver clasp and revealing the white robes underneath.  
  
[A/N: This costume was suggested as possible for a character in another story, and I likes it so much I had to use it here. Sorry]  
  
"Do not attempt to assault me again, Legolas," intoned the black haired elf, "or the consequences will be dire indeed."  
  
Legolas gulped, slightly shaken to encounter a foe he could not pancake. "Sorry, sir."  
  
Huinesoron smiled. "You are forgiven, this once. Now, As you seem to have put a couple of your assistants out of action, I have a new helper for you." The female elf stepped round from behind him and looked at the assembled company. "Uh . . . hi," she said, her voice slightly wobbly. "I'm, um, Hirilnara. I'm your new assistant."  
  
"Very good," Legolas nodded. "Do you know what we do here?"  
  
"Yes, Lord," she replied, "Huinesoron explained it to me."  
  
"Good. In that case, please go with Chocolat Elf. She will show you around, and then you can start on the next batch of pancakes."  
  
She nodded, and followed the other from the room. Legolas looked back at Huinesoron. "This one had better be normal," he said, "or I *will* pancake you, magic or no magic."  
  
"Oh, don't worry," the other elf replied, a strange smile on his face, "you're perfectly safe."  
  
Somehow, Legolas wasn't exactly convinced.  
  
* * * *  
  
I know, I know, but I like introducing new characters. And she *did* ask.  
  
How about some reviews, yah?  
  
hS 


	25. Lost Pancake Tales Sixteen: Grima Wormto...

Hi again!  
  
Elanhin: Actually, that would be good. I may use that. Oh, these minor characters . . .  
  
Kyma: Of course! All powerful authors are necessary. And I'm glad you still like it.  
  
Merrylyn: Yay! Someone likes my character! And Moria as well. Yay!  
  
Firestar: Yay! Someone else likes me! And well done for reviewing.  
  
Anon: Aw, poor you. Yes, I like my new characters.  
  
Baby Anne: Riiight . . . I'll assume that made sense. Well, thanks for reviewing.  
  
Imbefaniel: I'll consider it. Berserk Pancaking Legolas sounds like fun, actually.  
  
Hex of the Unseelie: What is this thing with the waffles? Mad!  
  
Liliac: I never noticed any plot. And she *wanted* to be splatted! She requested it!  
  
Bulma Greenleaf: Yup, you're still wandering around. Another chapter . . . oh, alright then.  
  
Zoheret and Dove (Or possibly just Zoheret): He may be smart, but never safe. Oh no, that would be far too dull.  
  
Viraten: What, Legolas mess up? No! That cannot happen! Well . . . maybe.  
  
Hirilnara: Yes, you're there. You're nervous because you're just meeting *Legolas*, for heaven's sake! And you can have the power we discussed, but only once.  
  
And here is . . .  
  
Lost Pancake Tales Sixteen: Grima Wormtongue  
  
After making sure that Huinesoron wasn't lurking outside the door, Legolas left his base once again and set off for Rohan. En route, however, he bumped into another potential victim on the road.  
  
Grima had been sent off by his master, Saruman, to attempt to subvert King Theoden of Rohan to the side of Saruman. But, his master being a stingy wizard, poor Grima didn't even get a horse. No, he had to walk, all along the cold, hard road to Edoras. Poor, poor Grima.  
  
As the man walked along, wallowing in self-pity, he noticed a dark figure standing in the trees beside the path. Stopping, he stared as the cloaked being stepped forward.  
  
"You know," it said, in a soft voice, "I wasn't actually going to get you yet. I didn't expect to meet anyone here, I was just taking a walk. But now you've seen me."  
  
"No, master, no," cried Grima, "I haven't seen you! I don't know who you are, not at all! Poor Grima knows nothing, nothing!"  
  
"I'm sorry, Grima," said the figure, "but there is no other choice." And with that, it swung its arm, which until then had been hidden behind its back, around, and . . .  
  
SPLAT!  
  
Grima clawed at his face, and through great effort managed to pull the pancake away from his eyes. And so, just before he passed out, he saw an elf standing over where he lay, looking down at him with something that might almost have been pity. Then the world turned black.  
  
* * * *  
  
Well? What did you . . . do I really need to write these notes afterwards? You all know what I'm gonna say. Review, please.  
  
hS 


	26. Lost Pancake Tales Seventeen: Treebeard

Hello again, oh wonderful people.  
  
Bilbo-san: Yes, poor him. Hehe.  
  
ShadowFocs: Thank you. Thanduril *soon*. I promise.  
  
Kyma: Pity is good. But it won't help him.  
  
Raven Firedragon: Well done, you reviewed, have a pineapple. Hehe . . . I got to subdue Legolas! Hehe. And please don't kill *all* my fangirls. Then my reviewers might leave me!  
  
Amariel: Now, why would I hate you? Grima took a horse away from Rohan, but how did he get there in the first place? I have any powers to do with fire. And why does your sister never review any more?  
  
Baby Anne: I'll pretend everything you say makes sense. I'm good at that.  
  
Elanhin: Yay! Evil Leggie! Fun!  
  
Oddwen: Yes, poor Grimy . . . I mean Grima.  
  
Imbefaniel: And he does both again this time round.  
  
MorticiaStarGrl: I have to finish off all of them before I can move on to repeats!  
  
Inweofnargothrond: Eowyn soon, his father probably next time.  
  
Merrylyn: Thank you. For being so nice, and coming up with such a good idea, I'll include you in Moria around Lost Pancake Tales 25. If I remember.  
  
Zoheret and Dove: Dove, never eat a pear again. 26 is a lot . . . but not too many, yet.  
  
Liliac: Thank you. One becomes a fangirl by acting fangirlish. There's probably a club you can join, too.  
  
Chocolat Elf: I know, poor Wormy did slip into Gollumspeak once. Sorry. Yup, you have a new co-worker. And you seem very confused. French people eat strange food? How dare they?  
  
Okay, here's what happened. If your review is not replied to, then it didn't show up on the review board. Some of those which didn't appear are replied, simply because I did so as I received my notifications. Sorry to all the others. It's not my fault, blame the website.  
  
And now . . .  
  
Lost Pancake Tales Seventeen: Treebeard  
  
The mighty ent Fangorn strode through the forest that bore his name. He had not been in this area of the wood in many long lives of men, and the trees had grown tall, taller even than he. But even this could not impede his progress for long.  
  
The sound of crashing branches came to an abrupt end as he came to rest at the southern edge of the forest. Before him lay the deep valley of the Gap of Rohan, in which the White Wizard lived. Long had it been since Saruman had ventured from his fortress, and now there were rumours of -  
  
The ent's thought was abruptly cut off as he spied movement in the trees. Turning, he called, "Hoom, hoom. What business have you here?"  
  
An elvish voice came back. "Only to deliver a gift, oh ancient one."  
  
"And what might that be?"  
  
"This!" came the voice in reply. There was an almighty 'twang' as of a ballista being fired, and Treebeard saw a huge mass heading for him. But there was insufficient time to move before . . .  
  
SPLAT!  
  
The huge, imposing figure of the ent wavered once, and then crashed to the ground in a storm of leaves. As the cloud settled, a black clad figure stepped over his unconscious form. Its hood fell back to reveal Legolas, grinning madly.  
  
"I've always wanted to get an ent," he said, apparently to himself. Then, turning back north, he ran quickly into the depths of the forest.  
  
* * * *  
  
Yes, I know it's unrealistic. But isn't the whole thing?  
  
hS 


	27. Lost Pancake Tales Eighteen: Beorn

Hello again. I'm finally back to writing.  
  
Kyma: I think it may actually be possible to have realistic fanfics . . . but thanks anyway.  
  
Elfchiki: I think I still have your reviews in my inbox though. I'm so glad you like it!  
  
Baby Anne: Ugh . . . camping is evil . . . yes. Well. Argh! The SBs! How could I have forgotten? Ah, well, looks like I'll be going back to the Shire sometime.  
  
Imbefaniel: I don't think he knows who Legolas is . . . but I doubt he saw him anyway. Yes, he laughed again.  
  
Elanhin: Ah, vivid mental images are so much fun . . .  
  
Liliac: Why do you always ask awkward questions? It was a very large pancake, and he fired it with a big catapult/ballista thingy.  
  
Caroline: I was tempted not to, but I have replied. Smeagollum will be in a couple of chapters . . . or maybe later if I run out of room. You're hyper? I'm tired, as it's . . . oh, five to midnight. No! Not the syrup! Must work that in somehow . . .  
  
Amariel: Oh, so she's obsessed with Orlando? Figures. Yes, I understood the hate thing, what *I* meant was that . . . oh, I don't know. I actually like the idea of engulfing myself in flame . . . maybe if Legolas tries to pancake me again I'll try it. As I recall, from your sisters reviews at first I got the impression that you were older than her. It's scary how wrong I can be. Yup, it's a weird conversation alright, and doesn't actually contain any review, but that's alright. As for the last . . . it really has to end with Legolas splatting himself, doesn't it? Although I may then get the Kitchen team running around splatting people by themselves . . . you never know. Oh, hang on, there was some review. I'm glad you like it!  
  
Roseblade22: This is going to be a looong reply . . . /deep breath/ Okay, you're forgiven for not reading. Ff.net has been having trouble recently, which meant I lost a lot of reviews, and couldn't post. Stress is bad. Coo, a Bombadil coincidence. Nice. And your sister isn't annoying if she reviews . . . I like my reviewers! Yup, I decided that he might like a speaking part )although the cloak is just one of my habits). Uh . . . if you're a Glorfindel fan, why do you like seeing him splatted? Yes, I in fact have several fangirls, some of whom work in the Kitchen. Now, did you just think LPT15 was the best because Amariel got splatted? Oh, you wouldn't, surely . . . well, actually . . . anyway. Ah, yes, Hirilnara. Well, I must point out, I actually gave her that name, when she asked for an elvish name. Pity for Grimy . . . uh, Grima, seems to be little, although some people do. Yes, I know it's unrealistic. And well done for all the reviews! Thank you thank you thank you! And here is another chapter for your reward.  
  
Inweofnargothrond: Of course they are! How could they not be?  
  
Elfchiki: Hmm . . . I think I may be very insane. I like 'fantabulous'. It is a nice word. No! Please don't set Legolas on me!  
  
Hex Of The Unseelie: Thanks. Finally, here is more.  
  
Drallimaster: I may do them again when I get to the Shire . . . maybe. Yes, let's upset Sam over Rosie!  
  
Bilbo-san: /Sigh/ Just try to understand. I'm afraid we have another odd creature in this one.  
  
Merrylyn: Yes, the site has been playing up a bit. Yup, ballistas and ents go together to equal fun! And I think the most annoying thing about him is just the way he . . . ttttaaaallllllkkkksss . . . vvvveeeerrrryyyy . . . sssslllloooowwwwlllyyyyy. I'm sure the assistants will cope. Of course I'll remember to put you in! I just hope I don't get too many new assistants, or I'll have to start killing them off.  
  
Chocolat Elf: Yay! Evil Legolas! Sane? You? Hmm . . . maybe. And a nice summary of the French there.  
  
Kinkyfrodo: Er . . . /hurriedly checks back through reviews/ . . . of course I remember you! And I'm sure Legolas will be very appreciative . . . just please tell me you don't want to 'clean up' Shelob. Ugh.  
  
Bulma Greenleaf: Yes, I know you submitted a review, but the lovely website was slightly broken and didn't show it. Grr. Anyway, I'm glad you still like it.  
  
Elenea: Ooh, yes. Holidays in summer are fun . . . shame I don't get any yet. Um . . . the pancakes are prolly only half cooked, but are also partly magical. The msple syrup, as far as I know, is real, but I'm not entirely sure. The pancakes themselves are completely real. And you probably are making a little sense . . .but not as much as you would if I was American and actually knew what these things you were talking about are. Ah, well, I can guess. Now, if you're going to Finland, why is your brain in the Carribean? And how can you survive away from a computer? I like long reviews. They show me that people care. Thanks.  
  
Thanks to you all. And I hope I got all the reviews this time . . . anyway. On, now, to . . .  
  
Lost Pancake Tales Eighteen: Beorn  
  
[For those of you who don't know, he appears in 'The Hobbit']  
  
Northwards Legolas went from the Entwood, and back, far back in time . . .  
  
Beorn the Skin-Changer was sitting on a bench outside his great wooden halls, deep in thought. His horses had reported that the Wizard and his dwarves, along with that funny little Bilbo creature, had left the last field. He guessed that they would reach Mirkwood within the week, and that the mounts he had lent them would return before ten days had passed. There was no need to track them.  
  
As he sat, his sharp ears picked up the sound of hooves. As he stood, one of his horses thundered round the bend in the path, reporting that an Elf was in the bee-fields, and getting closer. He didn't appear to be armed, but . . . well, decided the giant Man, best that no chances be taken.  
  
Beorn reached the edge of the pasture just as the Elf, clad in a long dark cloak, arrived at the same spot. "Ho, master Elf," said Beorn, "what brings you here?"  
  
"Are you Beorn, the Skin Changer?" inquired the figure, his voice soft.  
  
"Aye," replied the Man, "that I am. What buisness have you with me?"  
  
The Elf pulled himself up to his full height. Speaking slowly and clearly, he intoned, "For the embarassment you are going to inflict on my family by means of your guests, and for living in the wrong place, you are about to be punished."  
  
Beorn, haring this, immediately began to morph into bear form. But, as his nails turned to claws, the stranger brought one arm out from under his cape, and . . .  
  
SPLAT!  
  
As the half bear, half man figure staggered, resistances overcome by the pancake, he heard the stranger mutter something about 'too much time around dwarves'. He had time for one last thought - that perhaps he would follow his guests after all - before oblivion came.  
  
* * * *  
  
So, what did you think? Please, reviews make me happy . . .  
  
hS  
  
Ps. And yes, it *will* be Thanduril next! 


	28. Lost Pancake Tales Nineteen: Thranduil

Ah, you're still here. Good . . .  
  
Kyma: Well . . . from that I glean that you like my story. Thanks!  
  
Imbefaniel: Well, here it is.  
  
Celtic Dawn Star: I have continued. I have also read your stories.  
  
Bulma Greenleaf: I'm glad you're looking forward to it. Enjoy!  
  
Viraten: Yes, that would work as an ending, wouldn't it?  
  
Elenea: Ah, I see, they are used to make BFPs (Blasphemous Fake Pancakes TM). How horrible. Have fun in Finland/I hope you had fun in Finland (Delete where not applicable).  
  
Amariel: No, I thought she was younger until someone said otherwise, which was before you said how old you were, so . . . oh, I don't know. Yes, you are insane. And you don't know what I look like, so how can he have looked just like me? Yes, I'm from England. I suppose my accent might be considered 'cool' by foreigners, but I'm not going to start saying 'Chocks away!' or other such clichés. And I'm glad you like my stories.  
  
Inweofnargothrond: I actually have a few episodes planned which may introduce other sorts of pancakes. Wait and see.  
  
Elanhin: Glad you like it. And I like the cloak.  
  
Firestar: Yes, he is. Nasty, I know, but hey, the reviewers want it.  
  
Hex Of The Unseelie: Well, I hope I don't disappoint you.  
  
Amariel . . . again: Well, I've never seen Treasure Planet, and it actually sounds like a typical Disney moneymaking scheme, but each to his (or her) own. No, I still live in Englad. I don't even want to visit the US, at least while Lord Bush is in charge. (Sorry if this offends you, but . . . well) And I have no objections to you reviewing twice or even three times. It stops me being bored out of my mind, at least.  
  
Elfchiki: Sooner or later, I'll write about everyone. And unfortunately long chapters are hard, as there's not really much to say about people getting splatted. Sorry.  
  
Amar . . . i . . . el . . . wait, didn't I . . .?: It's nice to have a reviewer who reviews this much. Don't worry, all reviews come up, unless Ff.net has a glitch. The idea for Pancakes came when I was at Scouts, and we were making pancakes (rather obviously). I just thought it would be nice to throw them at people, and then this turned up. And developed a life of its own. Um . . . I hate to disappoint you, but 'Huinesoron's Fangirl' was actually a joke from Caroline/Hirilnara, who turned up as a co-worker in LPT 15. Sorry.  
  
Baby Anne: Yup, all these people, and so little time. And Beorn featured in The Hobbit. He helped Bilbo and the dwarves on their way, eventually leading to them annoying Thanduril and getting imprisoned.  
  
Roseblade22: Well done, you have a memory. I've just about got the ages of you two sorted now. And I'm sure you think she's annoying, but I like reviews, so no review can annoy me. Ah, obsession. It is good to be obsessed, sometimes. And . . . who is it you want me to splat again?  
  
Pineapple Princess: Oh, now that is a good image. But don't worry, it'll be a long time before I finish.  
  
Elrothiel: Of course I remember you! How could I forget? Manwe and Denethor are already on my list, but I believe I may have forgotten Isildur. Thanks!  
  
Bilbo-san: Your memory serves you well. And I would like to point out (just to incite more arguments) that some trees can talk, at least to Ents. They're funny like that.  
  
Chocolat Elf: Oh, the SBs! How could I have forgotten? It looks like I will habe to return to the Shire after visiting Rohan and Gondor. And then clearing up all the leftovers, and on into the past . . .  
  
Baby Anne: Okay, you're not crazy. Now, I would run that poll, but it might break the Ff.net rules, and then they'd take this down . . . which would be bad. Congratulations on registering, we will watch your career with great interest.  
  
Merrylyn: Yes, to much evil is bad for you . . . as is too little. I'm glad you like it still!  
  
Kinkyfrodo: Help!  
  
Elfchiki: Thanks for another review. High on apple juice? Oh, my. Ah, yes. I've always pronounced 'Huinesoron' as 'Hween - [Long 'a' as in 'd*ay*'] - sore - on', but it's elvish, invented by me, so I'm not sure of this. Hope that helps.  
  
Malfoyelf: Frame my stories and eat pancakes? Oh my . . .  
  
So, here it is at last . . .  
  
Lost Pancake Tales Nineteen: The One You've All Been Waiting For: Thanduril  
  
King Thanduril was walking through the forest surrounding his hall in Northern Mirkwood - a name that had stuck despite his preference for 'Greenwood'. If only his son hadn't been so quick to adopt the term, the old name might have been kept, but no, Legolas had to be clever.  
  
Hearing a sound, Thanduril span around to see a figure in a black cloak. He relaxed when he saw by the stance that this was an elf, and merely said, "What are you doing in my realm, stranger?"  
  
"Just passing through," replied the figure, in a voice that seemed familiar. The king thought for a moment, and then it came to him. "Legolas? My son, what are you doing back so soon?"  
  
The figure sighed. "Ada, I was hoping I wouldn't have to do this."  
  
"Do what?" asked Thanduril, confused.  
  
"This," replied Legolas, and whipped an arm round.  
  
SPLAT!  
  
A strange smell drifted through the wood, a product of the drug added to that special pancake. Amnesia followed.  
  
As Legolas - had it been Legolas? It all seemed so vague - moved away, Thanduril heard him muttering. Although a human would not have been able to make out the words, the Elf Lord had no trouble.  
  
"Stupid old fool. Why couldn't he have stayed out of my way?"  
  
* * * *  
  
Ta da! And now, because I finally got round to updating, could you *please* review? Pleeeeease?  
  
hS  
  
Ps. YAY! I just noticed . . . I finally broke 500 reviews! Thanks to everyone who helped me do this.  
  
Pps. Does anyone know where the word 'Ada' actually popped up? I know it was in the film dialogue, but I've never found it in any of the books. 


	29. Lost Pancake Tales Twenty: Smeagollum

Hi again, people!  
  
Amariel: You know . . . if I didn't know you were really weird, and if your sister hadn't explained, all those *toast*s would have me really worried. I have no objections to you writing long, or even multiple, reviews. In fact, they're fun, and I appreciate it. Huinesoron Fangirls . . . I haven't got an exact count, but I think several of the Assistants are. Curiosity is good. Legolas is coming back to the mines . . . well, now. Don't worry, I don't mind accent jealousy, as long as you don't steal it. Because then I'd have no accent left. The horror! Ah . . . people who can't drive. Lovely. I've always wanted one of those. I'm sorry for bringing politics into this review board. After my next comment I won't mention it again. ALL POLITICIANS ARE INCOMPETENT!!!!! Thank you. I have many people left to pancake, and apart from you, I doubt I'll get anyone twice. Don't you feel special.  
  
Elanhin: I must learn Swedish. Is this fast enough. Oh, and welcome to the crazy cast. We hope you enjoy . . . we hope you survive your stay!  
  
Anon: The lesson here is: Don't go to Europe. I try to stick to that, and I only live a few dozen miles away. Ardalambion . . . 'Tongues of Middle Earth'? Is that a good translation? And what is it?  
  
Bilbo-san: 'Fwee'? O-kay . . . I agree with Bob and Yana here.  
  
Kyma: Yup, I can't spell. Glad you liked it. And now I can wish you a late - or maybe even on time - Happy Independance Day. Yes, I keep up with international holidays.  
  
Legolas Stalker: See? Two for the price of one! A bargain!  
  
Baby Anne: Thanks. As for who's next . . . read on!  
  
Merrylyn: I'm glad you liked it. Yes, Legolas hates his ada. I agree, I must get the ring.  
  
Oddwen: Thanks for the help.  
  
Inweofnargothrond: I'll look up that story when I have time.  
  
Chocolat Elf: Yay! Evil Legolas! /Blink/ Pink and purple froggies . . . riiiight . . .  
  
Roseblade22: Okay, Thranduil was in his way because Legolas was trying to get through Mirkwood without being seen. Legolas thought he was stupid because . . . um. Not sure. I'm sure you can drive wonderfully, although I myself can't, both because a) You can onl start to learn at 17 over here, and b) I think I'd crash into everything. Ah, politics. I have decided that I will stay away from them . . . at least until the Raven and I take over the world! Ah, yes, the accents. Now, I hate to sound all high-and-mighty, but what with the USA being a colony, we actually have more right to call your accents American than you do ours English. Sorry. Ah, national stereotypes! As I recall, then, all Americans end each sentence with 'y'all'. No, but seriously, if I go into London, only a few miles away, Imcan hardly understand what they say. And I doubt they could even pronounce 'surreal'. And 'cool' is common usage. Wow . . . this is a *long* reply.  
  
Bulma Greenleaf: Yes, the pancakes still have him. There is only one way to break the spell . . . but that won't come for a while yet . . . mainly because I don't know what it is!  
  
Imbefaniel: Now this information, I should keep. It may be useful.  
  
Liliac (fangirl in training): Uh . . . fangirl for who? He was passing through because he likes walking through forests. Okay, your reviews are nice! Stop nagging me!  
  
Okay, two things. One, I'm very sorry about messing up Thranduil's name last time. I was at school while writing, didn't look it up, and . . . well. Second, I'm currnetly writing in Notepad, due to Word not working, so there's no spellcheck. Gulp . . .  
  
And now, on with the story.  
  
Lost Pancake Tales Twenty: Smeagollum  
  
Due to the unexpected encounter with his Ada, Legolas had to return to his Kitchen much sooner than anticipated. As he stepped silently through the door, he heard laughter from the conference room. Moving over, he leaned on the doorframe and watched the events taking place.  
  
Amariel, Lainy, Bulma Greenleaf and Chocolat Elf were seated at the table, facing away from him. At the other end his fifth assistant - actually the sixth, but Elrothiel had been kicked out and didn't really count - Hirilnara was the focus of their attention. Standing a foot or so from the black stone wall, her eyes flickered with the reflected light of what she held.  
  
With a flick of her wrists, she set the glowing orbs in motion. Five of them, each about the size of a large berry, spun and danced, sparks flying off them, as she juggled. Legolas watched, transfixed, until suddenly the glow disappeared and the orbs became ordinary pebbles again. As this happened, Hirilnara slumped suddenly to the floor.  
  
The other four assistants stared at her in horror, still unaware of their master's presence. However, this ignorance was soon shattered. From the doorway, the Elf prince called out, "Lainy, Amariel, kindly take Hirilnara to her room to recover. When she comes round, please send her to see me. Bulme, Chocolat Elf, come here please."  
  
The two sisters quicky lifted Hirilnara between them and removed her from the room, leaving the other two alone with Legolas. He stared at his two assistants for a moment, and then, softly, asked, "Who would like to explain this to me?"  
  
Bulma and Chocolat Elf looked at each other in silence. Hesitantly, Bulma said, "It . . . it appears, Lord, that our new co-worker has a sort of magical power. She can . . . well, she can make rocks glow."  
  
Legolas stared. "I see. And in return, this so drains her energy that she faints."  
  
"Uh, yes sir, that appears to be the case."  
  
"Hmm." Legolas pondered for a moment, and then said, "When she recovers, remind me to forbid her ever to do that again."  
  
The two assistants' replies were cut off by a knock at the door. Legolas sighed in annoyance, then motioned to Chocolat Elf, who moved over to open it.  
  
In swept Huinesoron, still clad in his black cape and white robes. Behind him entered a girl, clad similarly but with invertyed colours. Thus her black robes were half covered by a white cape, held at the throat by a gold clasp. Legolas sighed.  
  
"Please tell me I'm not going to have yet another assistant."  
  
Huinesoron smiled. "No, Legolas, she is *my* assistant. For those times when I cannot spare the time to come here. But speaking of assistans, where is Hirilnara?"  
  
"She managed to knock herself into unconciousness by performing tricks with glowing rocks," replied Legolas, barely keeping the scorn from his voice. Huinesoron looked shocked. "You mean she has been trying to use magic? Here?" he exclaimed.  
  
"Yes," piped up Chocolat Elf, "but only when we pressured her, and not very much."  
  
Huinesoron shook his head. "Foolish girl. I *warned* her not to-"  
  
"What's this, preciousss? Who'sss down here?"  
  
As the strange voice hissed through the cavern, the response was immediate. Legolas, Huinesoron, and Huinesoron's new assistant span to face the source, Legolas readying a pancake while the other two held fireballs ready to launch. Bulma and Chocolat Elf, knowing themselves to be defenceless, stepped quickly behind their master.  
  
In the doorway of the Kitchen sat a strange, deformed creature in whose huge eyes was reflected the glow of twin suns, the fireballs. As its eyes widened even further and it turned to flee, Huinesoron dissolved his fireball and gestured towards the goor, which swung shut with an almighty crash. Only then did he turn to Legolas.  
  
"Please tell me," the black-haired elf said, "that you didn't set this thing up in the period that Gollum was here." Seeing the expression on the other's face, he added, "Oh, Valar . . . why me?"  
  
Legolas contemplated for a moment while Gollum hissed, "What doesss it mean, precioussss?", and then said, brightly, "Oh, well, we can fix this easily." He swung his arm around, and then . . .  
  
SPLAT!  
  
Gollum hissed just once, then curled up on the floor of the cave like a dead thing. In fact, the only way he could be detected as living was by the slow movement of his ribcage. Legolas and Huinesoron stared at the pathetic form.  
  
"Well," began Huinesoron, but cut himself off on looking at his assistant. "Elanhin, you can put the fireball away now."  
  
Elanhin, his assistant, looked at him for a moment, and then said, with a slight accent, "I don't think I can, sir. I think my sleeve has caught fire!"  
  
As Huinesoron looked and saw that her sleeve had, indeed, ignited, he froze. That might have been the end of Elanhin, but for the fact that Bulma had grabbed a bucket of water, and now upturned it over the girl, quenching the flames.  
  
The sound of the flood hitting the stones seemed to break the Elf from his trance. Shaking his head, he said, "Elanhin, go and get changed. And Legolas . . . oh, hello Hirilnara."  
  
The efl girl had just stepped from her room. She nodded in Huinesoron's direction, then looked back at Legolas and said, "You wanted to see me, sir?"  
  
* * * *  
  
Thanks to all those who pointed out my bad spelling last time. And to everyone who helped with the 'Ada' question. But don't let the lack of questions here stop you reviewing! Go on!  
  
hS 


	30. Lost Pancake Tales TwentyOne: Isildur

Hi!  
  
Pineapple Princess: There's actually a picture somewhere of Bush wearing the Ring. Have you seen it? Yes, people ripping things off is evil. If anyone ever does it to this, I will hunt them down. Mwahahaha! You have a cat called Figwit? How . . . interesting. Hey, I know, how about making Arwen take the Ring from Frodo and completing the journey to Mount Doom? That would fit in with the general screwed up nature of the films (although they are good). The rocks thing *may* have a practical use in later chapters . . . if I can fit it in.  
  
Kyma: Yeah, she's so helpful.  
  
Elfchiki: A nice theory. I doubt the filmmakers invented it, but that might be how Prof Tolkien came up with the word. We shall never know.  
  
Merrylyn: Well, I don't really have a choice about the spellcheck. Ah, accents . . . they are fun. I have a few that I can do, but I'm not too sure what Canadian sounds like. The glowing pebbles were Hirilnara's own idea (sort of) and I'm afraid they will not be making many re-appearences. Sorry. And Elanhin should probably have reacted a bit more, shouldn't she? Ah, well. Ooh, I have another fangirl, one who likes Legolas too. Yes, the assistants do some bad things, but they're not too bad. Glad you like it!  
  
Elfchiki: Gollum? Cute? Yes, I have an English accent. Which everyone seems to love these days. I used to learn French, and I know bits and pieces, but not too much. As far as I know, language skills are relatively common over here in little Europe, or at least, more so than in the US. Losing control of a monster truck sounds horrible . . . I never want to drive. But you should probably learn when you're old enough.  
  
Kinkyfrodo: Yes, get him out of here!  
  
Imbefaniel: Well, I *do* have an opening for a bystander in a little while. We'll see what we can do.  
  
Elanhin: I must be psychic . . . my characters even end up like they are in real life! That sounds painful, but at least you got over it. Go pyromania! Ooh, yes, the twins. They will go sometime, but it may be a while yet.  
  
Bulma Greenleaf: Yes, go you! Glad you like it.  
  
Person: Ahh, insanity. Yay!  
  
Anon: Fun? In Europe? How can this be? Yes, I've managed to learn bits of elvish. Just no verbs. And what is 'Mara mesta'?  
  
Bilbo-san: Yeah, poor him.  
  
Hirilnara: Yes, and we're very grateful to you for turning up, even if it was only one week. Yes, you can juggle. Yay! Hyper! And no, I'm not running out of characters. Don't be silly.  
  
Roseblade22: No, no cliffhanger, I just didn't want to waste time having a pointless debate. I guess this means you're tired, then. And what's the problem with a holiday devoted to pyromania? I'm glad you liked it. The thing about accent stereotypes is that . . . well, they're stereotypes. I'm sure you don't all talk the same. And the difference between fields of corn and cows is that the corn looks nicer. Yes, I'm 17, but I can't be bothered to learn to drive. I don't *want* to!  
  
Amariel: The assistants may just disappear, or they may get a spin-off series. Yes, you two do write very long reviews, but I don't mind. Um . . . she may be fire-resistant. I'm not sure. Yes, colour is right, as Prof Tolkien says. Well . . . I was a little scared at first, but I just assumed you were weird. You're not the weirdest? I'm scared now. I have no problems with answering questions, and if I do I'll say.  
  
Firestar: Ah, high speed internet. I'm glad you like!  
  
Hex of the Unseelie: Well, if you like, you get more!  
  
Malfoyelf: No! Not the fangirls! Keep them away from me!  
  
Amariel: I read your story . . . and reviewed . . . and insulted Bookworm. And I wanna go to that shop!  
  
Chocolat Elf: He's cute? Okay . . . look, there's a reason Hirilnara and Elanhin have powers . . . which will be revealed in time. No! My accent! /Buys accent back/ Ha! Vegetarians can't eat Quavers? We can't come back from Mars? But photosynthesising people would be useful. Well done on your SATs results.  
  
Inweofnargothrond: Yeah, I liked the name thing too. And we will go to Rohan one of these days. Honest.  
  
And here we go, onto some of those people that *everyone* wants to be splatted (splut?). Yes, that's right, it's the Gondor Section.  
  
Lost Pancake Tales Twenty-One: Isildur  
  
Legolas, after reprimanding Hirilnara, and telling her never to do tricks like that again, moved out through the East Gate of Moria, and back through time . . .  
  
A little to the north, where a minor river joined the Anduin, a horde of orcs fought against a valiant, but doomed, group of men. It was the beginning of the Third Age of the Sun, and on the Gladden Fields Isildur, King of Arnor, drew ever closer to his death.  
  
Seeing that the battle was lost, and at the urging of his squire, Isildur finally abandoned his army, donned the Ring that he had cut from the Dark Lord's finger, and vanished temporarily from sight.  
  
But he was still just a Man, and had not mastered the silent movement that characterised the Elves. The orcs, making such a racket themselves, were unaware of his presence, but something else, a dark shadow among the trees, followed his footsteps.  
  
Now the Numenorean came to the bank of a river. Once he crossed it, he would be safe. He put one foot in, then span as he heard a sound behind him.  
  
There, clad in a black cloak, stood an elf. It didn't look straight at him, but instead had its head on one side, listening. When it was quite certain he had stopped, it said, "Isildur, I presume?"  
  
The King made no reply, but the figure seemed satisfied anyway. It spoke again. "For the terror you will inflict on later generations by your selfish act, and for the blood of my kin, I hereby sentence you to - hey!"  
  
For Isildur, on hearing this, and guessing the rest, had leapt into the river and started swimming franticly. Legolas sighed, pulled out a pancake and . . .  
  
SPLAT!  
  
Isildur shuddered in the water, and, ho his horror, the Ring dropped from his finger. As he tried to grasp it, two orc archers hidden in the reeds struck.  
  
Legolas watched with a kind of sadness as the Man's body drifted away. He had pancaked the archers, but too late to save Isildur. A shame, the man could have done some good, freed of the Ring's influence, but Legolas knew that changing the course of history was impossible. Sighing, he turned South once more towards his primary target, the place that Isildur had set out from. The White City beckoned.  
  
* * * *  
  
I know, it was a pointless diversion, and I *could* have got him later, but I just felt like it. Sorry.  
  
Hey, here's an idea. Why not review for me?  
  
hS 


	31. Lost Pancake Tales TwentyTwo: Denethor

Hello!  
  
Imbefaniel: Yup indeed. Catch with a bottle is bad.  
  
Kyma: Yeah, don't worry about the dead. Thanks!  
  
Merrylyn: Maybe I ought to get some fangirl repellent . . . I've never been good at differentiating Canadian from American or, for some reason, Australian. Which is odd, considering they sound completely different. But yes, it's all very generalised. Yes, Isildur's great. I mean, without him there wouldn't have *been* a story! And Legolas as a Dark Avenger is a nice concept . . . very similar to Batman, but with added pancakes.  
  
Kitty: Glad you liked it, but I already have a plan for the final episode . . .  
  
Anon: The problem, see, is that there doen't seem to be a 'to be' verb. So I can't form sentences beyond 'I umbar in anor ar ithil' . . . roughly, 'The fate of the sun and the moon'. Sort of. I'll look up Mara Mesta some time. Glad you liked it.  
  
Fuzzy Hobbit: Nooooo! Not Pancake Withdrawal! How horrible! Yes, I know not all Americans say y'all all the time. It's just Mr. President who does *that*.  
  
Baby Anne: Yup, that's why. And next is . . . well, you'll see. Why lonely and depressed?  
  
Elfchiki: That's a nice line. 'It's never too early for a pancake'. I must remember that. A new world holiday? They should bring out more films . . . I haven't seen it, but there's still time. There is always time.  
  
Amariel (the incredibly grateful): Well, I recall that one of my first reviews ever was basically of a 'thiss sorty sukz' type, so I know how bad it is. Ooh! Cookies! Yay! And of course I'll keep reading your story, and keep reviewing too. You went to see Pirates? I haven't, but I may do so. Yes, it will be a *loooong* time before I finish . . . but I already know what will happen in the final episode. I'm not gonna tell you though, so don't ask. That would ruin the surprise.  
  
Firestar: Yup, that's how alright.  
  
Elanhin: So nice to know that *something* I do isn't pointless. No! Not the evil mini-devil! But should I really splat someone even I've never heard of?  
  
Roseblade22: Yes, he should, but if he just splatted them, the stories would be so boring and short. Yes, the spinoff may happen, once I reach the end. Maybe they can stalk Legolas and the Fellowship. Yes, I suppose I will have to learn . . . gulp! Yay for golden corn!  
  
Malfoyelf: Ah . . . he moves back in time by using his space-time portal. I guess you missed that. Legolas himself is a pancake purist, with perhaps a little syrup. The assistants, however, may end up using more . . . interesting versions.  
  
Bulma Greenleaf: Glad you liked it! But now my tale has begun to influence the real world . . . uh-oh. I continue!  
  
Nature_lover: Pancake variety will appear in a few chapters.  
  
Now, it's time for . . .  
  
Lost Pancake Tales Twenty-Two: Denethor  
  
Denethor, Steward of Gondor, sat in his high chamber, trying desperately to keep the remains of his sanity. His favourite son, Boromir, had been killed weeks before, and he had only just been informed. Now, they told him that his other son was wounded, dying. The line of Stewards would fail, and Minas Tirith would fall . . .  
  
There was a sound behind him. The old man rose from his chair with a speed most would not have believed and spun around. There, a tall elf stood, clad in black. The figure watched him for a moment, and then said, mockingly, "Your elder son is dead. Your younger son is dying. You yourself have grown old, and will soon follow them into darkness. You have failed your duty, Lord Denethor. The way must be cleared for new blood."  
  
Denethor tried to speak, but the elf swung his arm around and . . .  
  
SPLAT!  
  
The Steward of the White City slumped to the floor, the last vestiges of his sanity gone. Hours later, when he awoke, he called his guards.  
  
"Bring me my son . . ."  
  
* * * *  
  
Ah, mad pyro lords. Wonderful. But now we need to find someone else in Minas Tirith to splat. Hmm . . .  
  
hS 


	32. Lost Pancake Tales TwentyThree: Beregond

It's nice to be back!  
  
Merrylyn: Actually, I may start merchandising in a few dozen more chapters. Or at least referring to merchandise in one of my other stories. What would a pancake spotlight look like? A big frying pan, perhaps? Ugh, creepy Denethor.  
  
Elanhin: Yes, Evil!Denethor. I'm gonna have to recompile my splatting list, aren't I?  
  
Bulma Greenleaf: Splatting them again? Well, maybe. As for who's next, well, wait and see.  
  
Imbefaniel: I've done them already!  
  
Amariel: Some people apparently have no sense of humor. Chocolate chip cookies sound nice. I know nothing of IHOP . . . it sounds very American, despite the 'International'. Ah, I have a piratical reviewer . . . fascinating. Orlando Bloom was in Black Hawk Down? I never noticed him. That's probably because I'd never heard of him, but hey. You're going to dress up as elves? You may end up in the news. That'd be interesting. Hey, a lot of people write better than me, too. Don't worry. And you won't have to worry about new reading material for a looooong time yet.  
  
Roseblade22: Ah, driving lessons. Well, it could be worse. I have a friend who had her first driving lesson the night after a party. A party at which she drank quite a lot of alcohol. I don't know how it went, but . . . Yes. Well. You want to stalk the Fellowship? Well, that's my main idea for the post-LPT timeline, but it's still not certain. Thank you. Okay, okay, I'll go and see it . . . maybe. Does it actually have a plot, or are you supposed to spend all your time staring at the actors? Don't worry, she needed defending. People who review like that are evil. Burn them all . . . mmm, nice big cookie.  
  
Inweofnargothrond: No worries. Glad you like them!  
  
Anon: Alas, I must find an elvish dictionary. And I absolutely *must* update more regularly. I'm forgetting what I've done! That's a good suggestion, I've actually used it here, I think. And how many names do you have? Jenn, Anon, whatever that one on the Barrow Downs is . . . I'm all confused!  
  
Anonymous: Hey, I now have two reviewers named this. I thought it would be boring by now, but my reviewers don't seem to think so.  
  
Kyma: Don't worry, I can't remember when I updated either. I'm glad you like it!  
  
Oddwen: Uh . . . who? Who?  
  
AarIIe: Oh, why can't you keep the same name? Nah, only kidding. Me, hate fangirls? How could I, I employ enough of them. Yeah, poor Denethor. Losing what you don't have is a very confusing concept. But I understand. Time. Time can be spent, saved, wasted, lost, made . . . loads of things. It's a funny ol' world.  
  
Legolas-lover-baby: Well, I do have a temporary opening - five or six chapters, I think. So you can go in there. Have fun!  
  
Baby Anne: Yeah, no school can be depressing. There aren't all that many people to pancake in the City, alas. So I'll have to make do.  
  
Bilbo-san: Yay for pyro-splatting! And the Rohan people will get pancakes sometime. Just not right now.  
  
Hex Of The Unseelie: Ohh, yes, pretty fire. No! Legolas is Lord of the Pancakes, not me!  
  
Chocolat Elf: Now that idea actually sounds good. I'll have to remember that. No, there's only one Legolas (otherwise all the fangirls would be *so* confused . . .) Once he's finished, he'll rejoin the Fellowship in Lorien at the same time as he left. No, I've not read OotP, 'cos Harry Potter bores me a little. I have better things to do. Like writing this! Yes, it's too . . . hot . . . This will be . . . uh, lots of chapters. not sure how many.  
  
Malfoyelf: Yes, I guess a magic spatula would be fun. But Legolas doesn't have one. Shame.  
  
Rhiannon: I couldn't write that, I'd get all confused. You can do it if you want, though.  
  
POINTY EARS ARE MY THING: Glad you like it. The Arwen and Glorfindel stories were actually in two different dimensions. In one, Glorfindel ends up riding, in the other, Arwen. But in none do they both get splatted. And I believe I did already splat the fangirls. The Easter Special, I believe.  
  
Pineapple Princess: Yeah, poor Faramir. Although is the cure for depression really being mobbed by hordes of fangirls? Who knows . . .? The last episode will not be for *ages* yet. I'm just thinking ahead. I may actually write it, then store it away until needed. And here, finally, is the next chapter!  
  
Here I am again, with . . .  
  
Lost Pancake Tales Twenty-Three: Beregond  
  
The White City offered many routes by which even a Man may pass unseen. For an elf, even one overcome by the power of the pancakes, it was a simple matter to reach one of the houses that stood on its gleaming streets.  
  
Beregond of the Guards arrived back at his home as the sun dropped below the horizon. His son, Bergil, awaited him on the doorstep, eager to tell of his day. For his part, Beregond was eager to hear it, for rumor had it that war was coming, and that soon he could be called away. So, for now, he spent all the time he could with his son.  
  
Alas, tonight that was not to be. For no sooner had the pair crossed the threshold and shut the door than a voice came from a dark corner.  
  
"Hello, Beregond, Bergil. When the Shadow comes, I forsee that you will both play a great part in its downfall. However, you will also become extremely . . . annoying, and this I cannot allow. And so . . ."  
  
A darker area of shadow detatched itself from the wall, swinging around, and . . .  
  
SPLAT!  
  
As his son screamed and slumped to the floor, the pancake enveloping him, Beregond whipped out his sword. But it was too late.  
  
SPLAT!  
  
The two Men lay side by side on the floor. Legolas looked down at their unconcious forms, and pondered. He had had enough of the city. He would have to take a walk in the fields of Southern Gondor to clear his head. All these people were bad for him.  
  
* * * *  
  
Yes, I know it was bad. But this was just a filler before I can get onto my next subplot. Which is . . . wait and see.  
  
hS 


	33. Lost Pancake Tales TwentyFour: The Harad...

I'm back!  
  
Malfoyelf: No, no spatula. And I already know what's going to happen in the next six episodes . . .  
  
Merrylyn: Yay! Pancake masks. Hey, maybe I could just pancake the kids . . . no, no, calm down. As I recall, you actually turn up next episode. So get practicing!  
  
Bulma Greenleaf: Accidentally splats himself? No, I think not. Far too confusing. And I'll read your story as soon as I get this posted.  
  
Imbefaniel: Yes. Right. And I hope the subplot is indeed interesting. We shall see.  
  
Amariel: Oh, him. I don't know Josh Harttnet, but Ewan McGreger was in Star Wars, wasn't he? I think. Yes, if Pineapple Princess is reading this, Amariel says HI! Yes, please tell me if you get in the news. But don't get yourself arrested. Your story's going to be very long? Great! I need a long story to read!  
  
Elanhin: What? My chapter, not exist? Pah! And no, I haven't read Harry Potter. Sorry.  
  
Roseblade22: Critics like it? It *must* be good. Either that, or they've perfected the art of subliminal messages. So, you've seen it how many times? And HAPPY BIRTHDAY! Even though that was actually yesterday, I think, I'll still say it. Did you have fun? Ugh . . . Canon Police evil. Burn Canon Police. Oh, that's typical. The elf started the whole thing . . . wait, I'm getting my films mixed up. Legolas in the US army . . . interesting. It's odd, actually, because most non-Americans are played by American actors. Strange. Glad you liked it!  
  
Bilbo-san: He was a guard in Minas Tirith in RotK.  
  
Lady Tsuru: I'm glad you liked it. Well, if I knew where your story was, you could get two . . .  
  
Anon: I'll usew that dictionary if I ever need any Elvish speech anywhere. Nine names? That's almost as many as Aragorn. Hey, you could write a fic with nine nazgul, including their names – Elenwen, Lossewing, Anon . . .  
  
Kyma: Yes, I had to get the kid. Everyone goes. And there's no point whatsoever. I'm just mad. Subplot coming up.  
  
Baby Anne: No, you aren't. Happy drugs? I want some!  
  
AarIIe: Yup, that's roughly who I'm getting. Uh, yes, I'd spend the money (although I'd have to get it changed to £ first) but probably not all of it. Would you? And no, I've never heard of IHOP, but of course I've heard of Orlando Bloom. When did I say that I didn't? Uh . . . I do continue my other fics. Not as often, because the chapters are longer, but I do. And I'm glad you tried to cheer yourself up with my stories. I don't mind you being frustrated at me, really.  
  
And now, finally . . .  
  
Lost Pancake Tales Twenty-Four: The Haradrim  
  
As Legolas wandered through the green fields of Southern Gondor, allowing the quiet to clear his head of distractions, he suddenly heard harsh voices raised in song, a language he understood not.  
  
Moving stealthily, he soon came upon a group of Men. But these were no ordinary men. Their skin was as brown as the earth at their feet and at the centre of their camp flew a blood red flag, an ebony serpent overlaid on it. Legolas gasped in recognition. There was only one people these could be. They were the Haradrim, the Southrons, enemies of Gondor and servants of the Dark Lord Sauron.  
  
Slowly, silently, he moved towards them. Pancakes at the ready, he looked down from the hill on which he lay, trying to identify the leader. All the soldiers were clad in identical crimson rainments, but eventually he noted that one stood at the centre while the others moved around him.  
  
Raising one arm, slowly, slowly, Legolas took aim, swung his arm, and . . .  
  
SPLAT!  
  
The Southrons looked up and spotted the elf instantly, despite his efforts to hide. He stood and began to run back to where his gear was stowed, but all to soon five horses swept up behind him. He just had time to glance up and see the spear swinging at him, to start to change course, before the world went black.  
  
* * * *  
  
Ahh, fun. Tune in sometime, I'm not sure when, for the next exciting episode of the Lost Pancake Tales, featuring two new characters (I hope you're not getting bored of all these assistants)!  
  
hS 


	34. Lost Pancake Tales TwentyFive: Catastrop...

Ah, what a horrible day.  
  
Bilbo-san: No! Not the dreaded cliffhangeritis! Well, I'll have to continue ASAP, then!  
  
Chocolat Elf: I'm glad you liked it, even if that *was* because of the iced tea. Yes, LoTR beats HP, but the ISPCE covers both universes. Uh . . . you'll understand that later. No, I haven't read them. And why do the Americans always get films before us? Not fair! No! Do not fangirl me! //Flies before the fangirl attack//  
  
Pointy Ears Are My Thing: Well, I may get a few fangirls now and then. But they won't get another chapter to themselves. Two dozen times? Oh, dear . . .  
  
Liliac (fangirl in training): He didn't portal out because he left his portal device with the rest of his gear. This was never headed anywhere. Nevernever. And actually, an episode splatting random animals might be fun. Hmm . . . New helpers turn up when they ask. Usually.  
  
Malfoyelf: Yes, a cliffhanger, but don't worry, I'm updating very soon. Well, I *do* write sporadically, but I also like to know where I'm going. But some things have appeared very randomly, like the most recent chapter over in Rings of Power. That one has no point. Aiee! Not Fangirls!  
  
Baby Anne: No, he's not dead. I couldn't kill him; the resulting Canon Deformity would probably turn the sky urple or something. Uh . . . I'll get back to that reference in a few chapters. Oooh . . . pills . . . Ahem. Yes. Well.  
  
Imbefaniel: Yes, cliffhanger. Glad you still liked it!  
  
Fuzzy Hobbit: Okay, I'm sorry, you weren't making fun of him. Sorry. But I'm glad you still like it!  
  
Amariel: Two years . . . wow. At least I'll have something to keep me occupied. Yep, evil formatting. But I managed to sort it by using .txt format rather than .doc. Yeah, Ewan was Obi-Wan. I don't mind if you don't like Star Wars. Uh . . . the Haradrim were the funny soldiers who marched through the Black Gate sometime in the Two Towers film. Denethor and Beregond turn up in RotK, and Beorn is actually from the Hobbit. Ah . . . yes . . . coming back. Well, I'm afraid I've got some bad news for you . . . just read on to find out.  
  
Well, here goes . . .  
  
Lost Pancake Tales Twenty-Five: Catastrophe  
  
Bulma Greenleaf, Lainy, Hirilnara and Amariel sat in the conference room of the Kitchen, worried. Before them, Chocolat Elf paced back and forth. Suddenly the girl turned and said, "He should be back by now. Something's wrong."  
  
Even as she spoke, there was a frantic knocking at the main entrance to the complex. Quickly, Amariel got up and rushed over, opening the door to reveal three figures.  
  
The Assistant's heart leapt, but alas, it was not Legolas. Elanhin stormed in, still clad in her white cape. Behind her came a pair of others. Without waiting for greetings, Huinesoron's Assistant said, rapidly, "Legolas is in trouble! You need to go and help him!" With that, she collapsed to the floor in a dead faint.  
  
Lainy leaned over, desperately trying to revive her. When all her efforts were in vain, she looked up in despair at her co-workers. "How can we help him if we don't know where he is?"  
  
"I believe we can help with that," came an unfamiliar voice. Lainy looked up to see the two girls who had entered with Elanhin. They were clad identically in brown robes, but were otherwise not alike. The one who had first spoken introduced them. "I am Merrylyn [A/N: Merrylyn, I seem to have lost the review requesting this, so I can't remember if you asked for a different name. If so, tell me and I'll change it], and this is my assistant, Hethien. We come from an Agency specifically set up for this sort of mission, and have been brought in to help you by Huinesoron."  
  
Lainy stared at them. Eventually, Bulma stepped forward. "So, if you're here to help us, what do you know?" she asked.  
  
Hethien spoke up. "We know that your Master was captured by a party of Southrons, somewhere in South Gondor. If we can find the exact location, we should be able to follow the trail right to him."  
  
Hirilnara looked at the two. "Are you Rangers?" she asked, cautiously. The Rangers of the North were theoretically on their side, but might not have been too pleased to learn of the splatting of Aragorn. But Merrylyn only laughed. "No, child, we are not Rangers. We come from the Interdimensional Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Elves, and have spent years training for this sort of thing. We will not fail you."  
  
Hirilnara was not exactly reassured by this – after all, several elves had also been victims of the Pancake Lord – but Merrylyn did not seem inclined to attack her, so she remained silent.  
  
By this time, Bulma had managed to revive Elanhin. The eight girls quickly moved around the Kitchen, gathering weapons of various types – including some from Chocolat Elf's store of 'special' pancakes – and soon left the chambers, climbing up the steep-sided shafts to the surface . . .  
  
* * * *  
  
Too many assistants! I'm afraid Merrylyn and Hethien will have to leave in a few chapters, just to keep me sane. But they'll have a large role for the time being.  
  
Oh, and the ISPCE is my own invention. I think. It's inspired by a few other things, but I came up with the acronym.  
  
hS 


	35. Lost Pancake Tales TwentySix: The Golden...

Ah, it's good to be back!  
  
Anon: Arrgh, too many names. Almost as many as Aragorn. I didn't expect a plot either, but hey, no worries. Yes, pity the Legolas, but not too much.  
  
Roseblade22: Okay, I'll update. Hmm, a long movie. Now, what else springs to mind . . . (LotR). TEN TIMES? That's insane! Is it really that good? Poor you, boring birthdays are evil. But if you managed to have fun nevertheless, good. Well done. [Calls offstage] Legolas? We have one *serious* fangirl here! Better get a pancake ready! Hmm . . . maybe I should get someone to draw me a poster of Legolas with pancake . . . Ah, later. Yes, spread the word! Kill the canon police! Legolas in the FBI? Well, I hope he's more subtle than Boromir. Comic book adaptions are a terrible idea. I don't watch anything to do with Graham Norton. He's annoying . . . plus I have a friend who acts just like him. More assistant mayhem coming up!  
  
Elanhin: Yes, he was hit and knocked out. But not killed, no, never that. ISPCE is the Interdimentional Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Elves, of which Merrylyn and her assistant are members. You passed out because you just ran all the way from wherever I am to the Mines, which is a little tiring. You never died, you just fainted. Don't worry.  
  
Merrylyn: Glad you like it. Plot twists are fun!  
  
Malfoyelf: Assistant flascards, a good idea. I do actually have a list around somewhere. ISPCE is the official pronunciation, but as proven by Bulma (I think) in this chapter, Ispace works just as well. Yay for plot twists!  
  
Viktoreja Rose: Ah, stupid but funny, thanks. No, Theoden comes later. And Legolas splatting himself comes *much* later. If you want to be in this . . . I may have an opening in a few chapters.  
  
AarIIe: Yes, Legolas captured. This whole time thing is getting too confusing. I can't even remember who's trying to prove what! They did actually take pancakes with them. I'm glad you like Ispace!  
  
Baby Anne: No, not dead. Mm, rainy purple sky . . .but I did in fact say urple. It's a kind of hideous mix between pink and purple, as found at Camilla Sandman's Official Fanfiction University of Middle-Earth. Go and read it, it's long but very funny. Then read the sequel . . . anyway. Happy pills . . . I've aquired my own sort of pills now. Yummy caffene . . .  
  
Merrylyn: I thought up Ispace after reading the PPC stories (hosted at misssandman.com/PPC/ppc.html). It's a kinda similar concept. Ah, turning up in a story is always fun, even more so if you're a major character. Now, forth to the next chapter!  
  
Liliac: Elanhin is *my* assistant, we met her in chapter twenty, I think. She set fire to her arm. Other animals . . . those big things the Nazgul sit on? The Watcher in the Water? One of Gollum's fissssh? No! Not the MEACP!  
  
Jhudora: Ah, nice to know I've brought a little joy into someone's life.  
  
Kyma: Yay for mad people! Yup, Legolas screwed up. You're in England? Does that mean the weather is your fault?  
  
Bilbo-san: Sorry!  
  
Pineapple Princess: No! Not the dreaded MLSP! Argh, why is the Elf doing so much these days? Uh . . . men in white coats bad. Dear Portable Padded Room. LET HER BACK IN! Yrs, Huinesoron the Great.  
  
Roseblade22: Yay! Save the Legolas! And threaten the Haradrim! Yay!  
  
Amariel: No worries, we *know* you're insane. Now, don't kill the computer, there's a good girl. Two hours of sleep? Hey, I write when I'm tired, so that should be the best time to read this, right? Uh . . . the rest of this review made little or no sense, so I'll just move on.  
  
Amin Mela Estel: Yup, very outnumbered. And the pancakes don't kill people. oh no. They just knock them unconcious.  
  
Bulma Greenleaf: Yes, well done for waking the poor girl up. And don't worry abot missing a chapter, I don't mind, honestly.  
  
Pointy Ears Are My Thing: Yup, fangirls will go byebye again. ISPCE isn't currently recruiting, but if they ever do, I'll be sure to tell you.  
  
Elenea: Ah, pretty country good. What? They are the Finns who say Ni? NOOOO! Your brain was in a clothes shop . . . figures. Hmm . . . I think I'll pass on the evil pancakes. Out of interest, how long is it before the American People are allowed to get rid of His Lordship and install someone else? Just wondering . . .  
  
And now . . .  
  
Lost Pancake Tales Twenty-Six: The Golden Wood  
  
The team exited Khazad-Dum via the Dimrill Dale, and spent the day marching towards the Anduin. All too soon, however, they became tired. It was then that Bulma came up with an idea.  
  
"If we're going to be doing a lot of travelling, we'll need horses, correct?"  
  
The others nodded, uncertain what she meant. Amariel asked, "Does this mean you want to go via Rohan?"  
  
The elf shook her head. "No. I speant some time in Lothlorien before joining Legolas, and I have a friend there who has an obsession with horses. I'm sure she wouldn't mind lending us a few."  
  
"Oh," replied Amariel, "I see. Good idea."  
  
"Yes," agreed Lainy, "it is. But shouldn't we ask our two experts first?"  
  
Bulma blushed, then called to Merrylyn, who was leading the way. "Is it alright if we stop by in Lorien to get some transport?"  
  
"That depends," came the response. "What sort of transport?"  
  
"Horses."  
  
"Yeah, that's fine."  
  
"Thank the Valar," muttered Hirilnara, "my legs are killing me."  
  
Within a short while the eight had reached the edge of the forest. Normally the guards would have stopped them, but what with the majority being elves, and one being known to them at that, entry was permitted.  
  
Soon, they were walking beneath the majestic mallorn of Caras Galadhon [Why can no two sources agree on the spelling of that?]. They had almost reached the flet below which the horses grazed when an elven girl rushed from the trees and collided with Chocolat Elf. Immediately, Merrylyn had her bow out, Elanhin readied a fireball, and Lainy, Amariel and Hirilnara readied pancakes. Doubtless Hethien would also have armed herself, but she had gone on ahead to check if Bulma's friend was in fact present.  
  
The situation remained tense for a few moments as the newcomer picked herself up.  
  
"Oh, I'm so sorry," she began, and then looked up at the group surrounding her.  
  
"Uh-oh."  
  
And things might have gone very badly had not Bulma recognised the girl then.  
  
"Anva!" she cried. When the others looked at her, curious, she said, "This is Anvanime Holle, Legolas' sister. I met her last time I was here."  
  
The group breathed a collective sigh of relief, and put their weapons away. Elanhin looked very pleased that she had managed not to set fire to herself. Anvanime smiled. "So, Bulma," she said, "what brings you to Lothlorien?"  
  
"We need to borrow some horses from Nimindil for a long journey. What are *you* doing rushing around like a maniac?"  
  
Anva gasped. "Oh, yes, I nearly forgot! My brother's just arrived, with a group of others. It seems that four human children turned up at the same time, so I have to go and pick them up. The Lady herself sent me! So I can't stay and chat. Bye!" And with that, she rushed off.  
  
[All those who wish to know what exactly happened when Anvanime met the four children, the full story is, or will be, chronicled in 'Rings of Power', by this author. Thank you]  
  
Lainy looked at the others. "Did she just say that the Fellowship were arriving?"  
  
"It sounded like it," replied her sister. "Are you thinking what I'm thinking?"  
  
"I think so. Does it involve the fact that we have a magician with us?"  
  
"It does indeed."  
  
Elanhin looked from one to the other, seeing the identical glint in their eyes. Finally, she asked, "Uh, girls . . . what are you thinking?"  
  
Amariel looked at her. "Tell me, do you know how Legolas began his pancaking career?"  
  
Sometime later, the group - including Hethien, who had now returned - watched the sphere of blue light, at the centre of which Elanhin worked her magic. Everything seemed to be going fine, until . . .  
  
"What's going on here?"  
  
The seven looked over at the source of the exclaimation, once again arming themselves. An elf maiden stood there, watching. They studied her for a moment before Bulma's eyes widened in recognition.  
  
"It's Nimindil," she whispered.  
  
"Don't worry," hissed Chocolat Elf in return. "We'll be fine as long as she doesn't recognise -"  
  
"Bulma? What's going on?"  
  
Bulma looked back at her friend. "Oh, Nimi," she said, "why couldn't you have stayed home?" With that she swungher arm around and . . .  
  
The arm was caught in mid-throw. Bulma followed the catching hand up to a brown cloak, and the face of Merrylyn.  
  
"I'm sorry, Bulma," she said, "I'm afraid I can't let you do that. It's against ISPCE regulations."  
  
Lainy stepped up. "Merrylyn, I know what Ispace says, but can't you see that she has to be silenced?"  
  
"Oh, I know. It just has to be done in regulation fashion. Pancake."  
  
Nimindil looked shocked. "Bulma, what are you -"  
  
SPLAT!  
  
The elf fell to the ground just as he blue cloud around Elanhin faded to rveal a gingerbread cottage. Lainy looked at it, satisfied. "Now we just have to hope he finds it. Then the pancake spell will have him, and everything will be all right."  
  
Bulma nodded, distracted. Then she added, "We'd better leave Nimi a note. We wouldn't want her to worry about where her horses have gone."  
  
* * * *  
  
Strewth, that was a long chapter. But that's alright, because it's gonna be the last for a while now. I'm going on holiday!  
  
hS 


	36. Lost Pancake Tales TwentySeven: The Ridd...

Well, I'm back for some more of this stuff. Did you miss me?  
  
Kyma: Nah, I doubt the rain was really 'cos of you. And I'm glad you liked my story.  
  
RedwingsFan: I don't like coffee, except the smell. Just like you. A challenge . . . okay, find out who wrote a) the first LotR slash, and b) the first LotR Mary-Sue on Ff.net. Muahaha.  
  
Viktoreja Rose: Glad you liked it. I'm afraid I did go on holiday, to Switzerland and Wales, but I'm back now. You want a role? All I need to know is what name to use. Tolkien? Why has no-one suggested this before?  
  
Imbefaniel: No worries, even I can't review all the stories I read. Ah, another HP fan. You liked being splatted? //Shakes head// Yay for plot twists!  
  
Bulma Greenleaf: That's not selfish, why do you think I do self inserts everywhere? Maybe you came from Lorien . . . the Assistants. Well, most of you seem to be elves, either by request (Amariel) or by default (Chocolat Elf couldn't exactly be human). What did you want to be?  
  
Amariel: No. You? Crazy? I'd never have believed it. Poor you, scared of lightning . . . thunder . . . whatever. Um . . . you have all of both casts . . . and the characters . . . riiiight. I'm not entirely sure how many of you there are - thinking about time travel makes my head hurt - but I doubt you'll bump into yourself. Unlike if you stay in your own house, because judging by the narritive in this review you're about five degrees away from a major breach of reality. I would hope that RosebLainy would keep you under control, but seeing what she's doing . . . //sigh//.  
  
Roseblade22: Yep, and now I update again. I hope RotK is veryvery long. I'm sorry, LotR nut alert. Let me get this straight . . . you drooled over Johnny Depp, then jumped on a trampoline, then started stripping . . . outside . . . then rolled around on the floor . . . then went and drooled a bit more, and got very little sleep. Just out of interest, did you remember at any point to put your shirts back on? (Sorry, stalker personality coming out here). Oh, and you got wonderful presents. Or at least, wonderful to a fangirl. You know, I have a feeling I'm gonna have to bring in Sarah and her cloning machine from the Boromir Saga to deal with all the Legolas requests. //Sigh// More technicalities. I'm going to take some photos of myself in a big black coat, with pancakes, and paste Legolas' head on top if I ever get round to it. Which I will. Hey . . . maybe I could get Ispace involved in the Anti-Canon Police Crusade. Hmm . . . well. Graham Norton is evil incarnate, and he acts like a stereotype. I hate stereotypes. I'm not sure if you splatted anyone, but I know you do in this chapter. yes, Legolas has a sister, imported from my other story, 'Rings of Power'. Yes! Finally, someone who understands!  
  
Malfoyelf: Yup, I'm a blatant self advertiser. The Fellowship didn't save him, this is the Legolas from before he even knew what a pancake was, such a looooong time ago. Yup, there's lots of me. And to make it even more confusing, we've actually going to meet at some point! Arrgh!  
  
Elanhin: Yes, well done, you did magic. And I think you get to do some more. Um . . . I can tell you're in a crazy mood. And you're not stoned? O-kay . . .  
  
Merrylyn: Ah, the wonders of Ff.net and repeating letters. The line in your review 'You have 636 reviews, that's insane!! I bet you break the 10 mark at this pace.' is a classic. Don't worry, though, I know what you meant. Ooh, yes, lots more splattable characters. Yeah, these tend to be long chapters, I think this one is too. But fear not, I will struggle on. Ah, a Hadir fangirl. Yup, poor Anva. And lucky Elanhin, she must be improving. Yup, I advertise my own stories. And your abilities are quite thingy, good. Yay for plotlines! And cloaks, of course.  
  
Elenea: Hmm . . . you should post, really. Just not too often, which was the mistake I made here. I have a friend who claims Dubya will stay in, on the basis that he has no real competition. Still, we can hope.  
  
Anon: Ah, crazy friends. I have several of them too. Yup, the cottage is back, but it has to appear again again before I finally wrap this up. If I do. Ooh, demon-elf. Are they as fun as firey demon mini-Balrogs?  
  
RedwingsFan: Okay, but I'll deal with this separately ne'ertheless. Ah, hyperactivity. Aforementioned is a good word. And well done! //Applause// Have a . . . ooh, have a pancake, signed by Legolas himself! But you still need a challenge. Drat.  
  
Pineapple Princess: I'm sorry I haven't updated for a while, I have just today come back from Wales, so . . . well. I don't know if Pirates is out over here in England yet . . . oh, it must be. William told everyone? Yes, but so did you, if anyone knoews who you are and bothers to read your review. Yay for padded walls!  
  
Liliac (fangirl in training): Arrgh, time travel makes my head spin. There are lots of Legolas' in the same world, but it's a big place. The one who is met Anva wanders away from the four kids and eventually finds the Gingerbread House. So there really is only one, but his personal timeline is kinda screwy. No worries.  
  
Hirilnara: Switzerland was hot . . . far too hot. Dark Lords don't like too much sun. Um . . . sorry, did I make that last chapter too twisted, 'cos I've only got a couple of people who understood. The stones ar just a party trick, and I told you not to use them. Don't worry, they'll be back. You got into Bath? WELL DONE!!!!! //Applause//. I realise this is a little OOC, but . . . have a virtual hug for doing so well!  
  
Inweofnargothrond: Yay for gingerbread!  
  
Legolas-lover-baby: Here you go. A brand new chapter, all for you.  
  
Ah, finally. Here goes . . .  
  
Lost Pancake Tales Twenty-Seven: The Riddermark  
  
The eight were riding hard, south into warmer lands. Although it was not yet full summer, days of travel in such temperatures were having serious effects on horses used to the cool shadows of Lorien.  
  
Chocolat Elf, who as the first of Legolas' helpers was now leader by default, pushed her horse to the limit to bring herself alongside Merrylyn and Hethien, te two Ispace representatives. Without preamble, the girl said, "This is killing the horses. We need replacements, or we'll never make it in time."  
  
Merrylyn turned in her saddle. "And where do you plan to aquire more horses? I doubt if any of you have friends way out here."  
  
Chocolat Elf ignored the implied insult and instead pointed east. We're passing through Rohan. If we change our coure just a little to the south, we can stop by at the Golden Hall."  
  
Merrylyn seemed to think on this. "Hmm . . . Edoras . . . I always wanted to visit Edoras . . ." She snapped out of her semi-trance suddenly and swung back to face the front. "Hethien, head back and inform the others of the change of plan. Let's go visit the King!"  
  
The eight rode up to the gates of the City of the Horse Lords. As Elanhin could, fortunately, speak their tongue, they were allowed entry even in this age of mistrust. Then came the question of what to do next.  
  
"It would be quite simple to grab a few horses and get out," said Lainy as the six Helpers sat in an almost empty inn. "Which led me - well, me and Amariel - to wonder if, while we're here, we shouldn't do some of our Master's work for him."  
  
Amariel, Chocolat Elf, Elanhin and Hirilnara nodded. Bulma looked uncertain, but then glanced down at her clipboard, which she always carried with her. Her expression cleared. "Well. There's a thing."  
  
Looking up at the others, she explained. "I've just checked the Plan. If Legolas hadn't gotten himself captured, Rohan is where he'd be right now. This delay throws everything off. If we can do some catching up . . ." She shrugged, leaving the end of the sentence unsaid. It wasn't necessary.  
  
As they were about to go and find their two companions, Elanhin asked, "What if the Ispacers object?"  
  
Chocolat smiled. "They can't. It's outside their jurisdiction. No elves."  
  
King Theoden sat on his throne, aged beyond his years. The lies of Saruman, though Grima Wormtongue, had poisoned his mind almost to the point of no return. But for now his advisor was absent, and his sister's children, Eomer and Eowyn, stood before him.  
  
"My King," said Eomer, Third Marshall of the Mark, "we have -"  
  
But whatever report he was about to deliver ws cut short by the sound of a commotion at the entrance. As those in the Hall turned the huge wooden doors were flung back and a white light flooded the room.  
  
From the glow stumbled the guard Hama, his face coated with some kind of pastry. He staggered forward, clutching at his face, to collapse at Eomer's feet.  
  
Now the glow began to fade, to reveal a long haired figure in white, arms outstreached, stepping in with five more beings behind it. Theoden raised himself slowly.  
  
"Is it . . . Gandalf?" he croaked. Eomer looked back at his uncle, at which point the figure spoke.  
  
"No, sorry," it said, in a female voice suffused with laughter, "wrong wizard. Nice to see you up, though. However, I must say, the long hair really doesn't suit you. Bulma? I believe you claimed this one."  
  
SPLAT!  
  
After that, time seemed to blur for Elanhin. She recalled using a fireball to melt Eomer's sword and stop him from decapitating Amariel, who subsequently pancaked him in the face. She also recalled having to shield Bulma, Chocolat and Hirilnara as the three of them tried to attack Eowyn and were defeated. it was only when Lainy intervened with a long shot from the other end of the Hall that the shieldmaiden finally went down. And then . . . it was all over.  
  
The six suveyed the sticky red mess that covered the floor and much of the walls of the great hall of Meduseld. "Well," said Lainy after a pause, "I must say I never thought they'd be that effective."  
  
Bulma nodded. "Quite artistic, actually."  
  
Chocolat looked at Amariel. "Well done, kid. I never would have thought of strawberry jam pancakes by myself."  
  
With that, they rushed out of the door and rode away, on the horses the Ispacers had got for them, and had waited patiently with outside the hall while the battle inside raged.  
  
* * * *  
  
And that's that. Phew. At least now I may get less requests for the splatting of Rohan personalities. One can but hope.  
  
Hey, I've been away a while, so I've forgotten what reviews are like. Why not remind me?  
  
hS 


	37. Lost Pancake Tales TwentyEight: The Whit...

Two updates in as many days! I must be mad.  
  
Legolas-lover-baby: Okay, you can have a lager speaking part. But I'm not sure who'll find Legolas. You did get sent off as the scout at one point, so . . .  
  
Inbefaniel: Yay for jam! Oh, now I see. So *that*'s why you people like me: because I keep introducing characters. Sleep? What is this 'sleep'?  
  
Pointy Ears Are My Thing: Yeah, I forgot to update my bio for a while, sorry. I'll have to read that story, if it's on here of course. No, Legolas doesn't use fancy pancakes, he doesn't like them. The Shire . . . he does need to go over there, actually, I'll send him. Allergic to pancakes? No! And what is french toast? I've never encountered it.  
  
Viktoreja Rose: Ooh, a genius reviewer. I'm so honoured. I'm glad you like it. I'll go and read your story once this is up. Pancake withdrawal? I think someone else mentioned that once . . . anyway. I've got people giggling at pancakes? Wow, I feel special. Argh, another reviewer with more names than Arastridestelessar!  
  
Elanhin: I'm sorry, I was on holiday. Out of the country, no computers. Ngh! Ah, a permanently happy reviewer. So nice.  
  
Bulma Greenleaf: I'm so glad you like it! Mm, yummy pie. And you can be an elf, then. Bling, it is so.  
  
Hirilnara: Yup, I'm back. Yes, save the Metahug! And I've used your pancake idea. The stones should be up next episode. Ooh, padded walls . . .  
  
Liliac (fangirl in training): Well, I worked in a little Legolas at the end, but they get him back soon, so not too much. The fish will go, sometime.  
  
And now for something completely different: The actual story.  
  
Lost Pancake Tales Twenty-Eight: The White City  
  
The trip was long and arduous, but eventually, the rescue team came to Minas Tirith, the Tower of Guard. As they rode up the busy streets Hirilnara saw a face she recognised.  
  
"Viktoreja!" she called out, and when the figure did not turn, "Viktoreja Rose!"  
  
The human girl looked round, bwemused, and then finally spotted the girl on the horse. "Hirilnara!" she called in reply, and rushed over. Hirilnara turned to the others and said, "This is my friend Viktoreja. I met her last time I was here."  
  
"Yes," agreed Viktoreja, "you were with the weird elf in black. Who are these people?"  
  
"These are . . ." Hirilnara paused. ". . . friends. We're looking for another elf who we think might have been here. Apparently he got lost down in Harondor somewhere. Hey, it's getting late. D'you think we could stay with you?"  
  
The girl looked uncertain at the thought of accomodating such a large group, but eventually agreed. "Sure, you can leave your horses in my stables. With my parents off at some banquet, I've got the house to myself tonight."  
  
Chocolat came up alongside Hirilnara as they rode up the steep road. "Are you sure we can trust her?" asked the elf. Hirilnara smiled back. "It doesn't matter. In the morning, she won't even remember us."  
  
The girl moved ahead, leaving Chocolat Elf to wonder at her willingness to sacrifice her friend. Perhaps the Pancake spell had been made too strong.  
  
The group arrived at the house. As they put their own horses in the stables, Hirilnara noted with satisfaction that there were easily enough resident to replace them in the morning. Then she turned and followed the others inside.  
  
As she entered the room she found Hethien explaining to Viktoreja, ". . . come from an organisation which aims to protect elves wherever we encounter them. So, naturally, when we heard of this one going missing, we grabbed a few helpers and rushed down here." Despite the inaccuracy, Hirilnara found herself nodding in agreement. It was a good story, and should satisfy Vickie until it was no longer necessary.  
  
After some more light conversation, the team settled in for the night. Viktoreja assured them that she would wake them at dawn. Merrylyn assured them that she would wake them haf an hour beforehand.  
  
Thus it was that Viktoreja rose entered the room to find it completely tidy, with just one figure standing in the centre. As she started to ask where everyone was, the figure in the brown cloak turned, flung out an arm, and . . .  
  
SPLAT!  
  
As Vickie dropped to the floor, the pancake - ordinary save for the amnesia-inducing potion - still attatched firmly to her face, Hethien turned to the window, took a step back, and jumped.  
  
She landed on the back of the horse waiting below. As soon as she did, Merrylyn ordered the entire group forward, leaving Viktoreja's house - including their own horses, still in the stables - behind. As they travelled down the street, the senior ISPCE representative quizzed her assistant.  
  
"Hethien, how long did it take the subject to reach unconciousness?"  
  
"Aproximately five seconds."  
  
"And how long would it take to drop an elf with the same throw?"  
  
"Three times as . . . oh."  
  
Merrylyn frowned. "What do you mean 'oh' . . . oh. Oh dear."  
  
Ahead of them, the soldiers of Gondor were assembling, weapons drawn, in the street, effectively blocking off their escape. Merrylyn turned to the others and said, "Don't worry, they may not be here for -"  
  
THUD.  
  
An arrow quivered in the wall beside Hethien's head. Merrylyn sighed, then accepted the stack of pancakes that Amariel was handing to her.  
  
There was work to be done.  
  
Ten minutes later, the Gondorian army lay scattered on the cobblestones. Thanks to Hirilnara's special maple syrup and chocolate chip pancakes, several of them seemed to have been pebbledashed, while others were coated in a bewildering variety of fruits and sauces. Through the debris were the hoofprints of eight horses, bearing South towards Harad.  
  
And, far away in the midst of a group of dark skinned soldiers, a lone elf sat with his head in his hands and despaired of rescue ever coming.  
  
* * * *  
  
Well, there you go. Even a short Legolas appearence at the end for you. Now, how about repaying the favour and reviewing?  
  
hS 


	38. Lost Pancake Tales TwentyNine: Near Hara...

It's me again . . .  
  
Writer From Rivendell: Argh! Why can't you just settle on one name? Nah, only kidding. I'm glad you finally got round to joining. Hmm, a golden and red hall . . . sounds like MarySue type descriptions, two colours at once. Yayfor cute Mini-Balrogs and evil demon elves!  
  
Malfoyelf: Many thanks for forgiving me. Yup, Amariel is our little genius today. Ah, they're going to . . . I can't tell you that. Yes, I'll end up talking to my self. But not for some tome yet. We need to get back to normal pancaking first.  
  
Roseblade22: Yes, me's back. Well done to you two for expert splatting. Yup, I'm gonna make a poster advert for Pancakes . . . someday, someday soon. Me? A naughty mind? Ahem. //Tries very hard not to think about this paragraph// A-ny-way . . . yay for lovely presents! My response to the next two paragraphs can be summed up in one word: FANGIRL! Okay . . . now i'm going to have horrible mental images of Bilbo chopping women up. Ugh. Long black coat? YAY! And I have updated now . . .  
  
Writer From Rivendell: Yup, I updated too soon. Yay! Another Cam reader! Okay, keep the name. And the pebbledash pancakes were Caroline/Hirilnara's idea. Blame her.  
  
Liliac (fangirl in training): Yeah, well, everyone kept complaining. Legolas' stuff turns up again in this chapter. The treatment of the horses ws, alas, necessary - they need to get to Legolas ASAP. No! Not the MEACP (Even if it *is* now called MEAPS).  
  
Viktoreja Rose: And the moral of this story is: Never trust pancake-wielding maniacs. Mm, yummy waffle.  
  
Bilbo-san: Well, with all the pancakes used in this chapter, they may well have been. Ooh, pretty random voice.  
  
Merrylyn: Yes, Edoras. Rohan. Mad horse-loving Ispace agent. Yup, pretty pancakes. And what is the point of the no repeating letters? Ooh, swishy cloak! Alas for fangirls . . . Ack! Can't . . . breathe . . . Ooh, another review. Yup, Gondor splatting fun. Hethien did very well, it must have been the excellent trainingg you gave her. Yes, Legolas will be rescued . . . but I'm afraid you don't stay in the story much longer after that.  
  
Bulma Greenleaf: Well, yes, there will be, because he gets rescued. Ooh, pretty dragons! Uh . . . what is a Wob-Wob? AIEE! No! Not the macarena! I'm scared. Well done for a long review.  
  
Pointy Ears Are My Thing: Aww, poor you. Uh . . . I think I've just been attacked by an evil elf with illusionary daggers. Eep! I'm not *your* Dark Lord, I am mine. And I'm not cute!  
  
Malfoyelf: I updated before you did your review, I think. It just takes a while to show. No! Don't attack yourself with a spork! I'm sorry, Legolas' portal generator was still lost, and you've copyrrighted the spatula, so I couldn't possibly use that. You get two replies for two reviews - that do you? Yes, I like long reviews, and I will update soon . . . like now!  
  
Kyma: No worries. We've got a carnival on England? Where? I'm glad you liked them.  
  
Amariel: You are? Riiiight . . .  
  
Choclat Elf: Yes, you're forgiven. Sunburn is evil! Yes, you're the leader for now. Well, your chance to wander around being evil is nearly over. Sorry. I'm glad you liked it, and don't worry about not reviewing. You're back now.  
  
RedwingsFan: Oh, *that* sort of challenge. How about this then: A story in which a girl falls into Middle-Earth and never gets within fifty metres of a single elf/half-elf. Or any of the members of the fellowship. Muahaha. Yes, a signed pancake. Don't eat it all at once! Alright, no Legolas torture . . . shame. Mind? What is this 'mind' thing? Where can I get one?  
  
Inweofnargothrond: I'm glad you liked it!  
  
Roseblade22: I passed on your message to Legolas, and he was very relieved. Ooh, community service for school . . . nice idea.  
  
So . . . many . . . reviews. And now, onto the story! [Note: Near Haad is the region of Harad next to South Gondor]  
  
Lost Pancake Tales Twenty-Nine: Near Harad  
  
The eight horsed figures galloped southward, their urgency lending them a speen almost equal to that of the fabled Shadowfax. As they straked through the deserts of Southern Gondor, Chocolat Elf rode up alongside Merrylyn.  
  
Shouting to be heard over the rushing wind, the elf asked, "How do you know where to go?"  
  
Looking over her shoulder briefly, Merrylyn replied, "The portal generator that your master had with him is Ispace technology. We had to give him it to prevent him wearing his legs out, once we realised he was serious about this pancake thing. It's got a tracer on it, which says we can find it about . . . here!"  
  
Merrylyn suddenly pulled sharply on her reigns, yanking her horse into a tight circle to slow down. The others, not so well prepared, made a large loop before coming to a rest beside the bank on which Merrylyn, now dismounted, was searching.  
  
As they dropped from their horses onto the soft earth, the girl in the brown cloak gave a cry of triumph and held up a bundle of objects, including a bow and a shiny metal thing that they all recognised as the portal generator.  
  
"Well," said Hirilnara, "this certainly makes our job easier." When the others looked at her curiously, she elaborated. "I know we can't portal straight to him, not knowing where he is, but once we've got him we can go straight home."  
  
Merrylyn nodded. "Good point. Well done." She seemed about to say more when Hethien called from the top of the rise.  
  
Down on the plain below, amid the sparse grass, was a huge bare patch, obviously the site of the Haradrim camp. And, leading away on the South side of it, was a churned up path of hoof- and footprints. The interpretation was obvious. Once the Southronas had captured a prisoner, they had returned home with all speed. And now the group had to follow them: South, into unknown territory.  
  
It was approaching evening several days later when Hethien, scouting ahead as usual, spotted the enemy camp. And camp it was, for the Southrons Legolas had encountered were setting their tents up already. This close to home, they felt no need to hurry.  
  
Leaving their horses behing a convenient hillock, the eight crept closer to the setup. Eventually, Amariel whispered, "There!" and pointed. Sure enough, a figure clad in black stumbled out of one of the tents and slumped by the fire, immune to the taunts of the Southrons around it. They had found their master.  
  
Quickly, Merrylyn designated roles to the group. Elanhin and Hirilnara were assigned to lightmaker duty, using their respective magics. Chocolat, Bulma, Lainy, Amariel and Hethien would provide covering fire, while Merrylyn herself grabbed the target. As night fell, they were ready.  
  
The Haradrim looked up in shock as a swarm of glowing dots flew overhead. They were even more surprised whenn each one settled over the head of one of their warriors. When one of hese leapt up and grabbed the speck, revealing it to be a small pebble, glowing red hot, their surprise increased. However, all this surprise was as nothing compared to that they received when a barrage of pale masses flew from the night, aimed for their most prominent soldiers, and . . .  
  
SPLAT!  
  
For Elanhin and Hirilnara, watching from the perimeter, the camp was a mess of pancakes and arrows, swords and shields. Elanhin saw a warrior sneaking up on the oblivious Bulma, and quickly brought one of Hirilnara's pebbles in to knock the Southron into oblivion. Then, as one charged up the slope towards the two magic users, too fast for her to respond, a long range pancake from Lainy put him down.  
  
In the midst of all this, a figure in brown slipped through the collapsed defences of the camp and grabbed the elf sitting by the fire. Merrylyn was about to make her exit, accompanied by Legolas, when a heavy Southron warrior collapsed atop her, slamming her into Legolas and trapping them both.  
  
The battle raged until near morning. As the exhausted pancakers picked themselves up, and Elanhin and Hirilnara finally dropped the stones they had been holding up by sheer willpower, Hethien finally asked, "Where's Merrylyn?"  
  
As if in answer, there came a groan from beneath one of the nearby unconcious soldiers. Bulma and Chocolat dragged the Southron away to reveal the senior Ispace agent slumped over Legolas.  
  
Merrylyn came round to find herself sitting on a hillock some distance from the camp. Looking around, she assembled the full story - Legolas was freed and they'd all survived - and reached into her pocket. Pulling out a radio, she flicked it on, set it to a specific channel and said, "He's here. Come and get him."  
  
"What ws that?" asked Lainy. As Merrylyn thought frantically, trying to think up an excuse, Legolas answered, wearily, "I think I can guess."  
  
Behind a hill a short distance away the sun was rising. As it did so, a long line of flickering blue portals opened . . . and hordes of fangirls rushed out, running towards Legolas accompanied by deafening squeals. As the Assistants, accompanied by Hethien, prepared their defence, Legolas said to Merrylyn, "You betrayed me. I won't stand for that."  
  
SPLAT!  
  
Leaving the treacherous Ispace agent on the ground, the pancake still clinging to her face, Legolas stood with a sigh and joined his loyal assistants. The front line of fangirls was less than a hundred metres away when he picked up a pancake, smiled grimly, annd said, "Girls . . . there's a lot of work to do."  
  
* * * *  
  
Phew. Finally they got round to rescuing him. Now we can get back to the original storyline.  
  
Hey, kids, how about a review or two?  
  
hS  
  
Ps. If anyone wants to see a really morbid tale about Mary-Sues dying, they should go over and read my new story, 'Ways to Kill a 'Sue'. It's really very sick and twisted.  
  
hS 


	39. Lost Pancake Tales Thirty: A Safe Return

I'm back . . . again.  
  
Legolas-lover-baby: Yes, you have to go. There's an idea at the end that you might like, though. And don't worry about the review thing.  
  
Writer From Rivendell: Phew, I thought for a moment there you were serious! You are writing a Mary-Sue? A real one, or another screwed up version? Ooh, I like the idea of EAMA. I wonder if the elves of EAMA would mind working with Ispace from time to time? You know, with their leader making a cameo appearence along with Liliac. That sort of thing.  
  
Imbefaniel: Bah, silly thing, sleep . . . makes me unable to write. Yes, he's free!  
  
Malfoyelf: Ah, a spork with a cork. And how could Merrylyn, who is a fangirl herself, possible harm Legolas? //Reads the next paragraph// Yes, you are seriously death obsessed. Ah, well, no worries, it's fun. And I waited long enough to get the review before writing, I did!  
  
Bilbo-san: Oh, no, we've created another fangirl. Eep, first days at schools are EVIL! And I like the random voice.  
  
Elanhin: Ah, well, I miss reviews sometimes too. Running 2 km? Not good, sounds painful. I'd have trouble running 2 meters! I'm not sure why you told me this either, but it relieved some of my boredom, which is always good.  
  
Amariel: I wondered why I wasn't getting any reviews from you. Yay for Eomer-splatting! Yay for DVDs! Yay for . . . uh, Amariel and her crazy cast of people! But . . . do you have two versionas of Orlando, if you have cast and characters from both movies?  
  
Liliac: Yup, he's rescued. And no, Ispace isn't evil, but Merrylyn was a fangirl in disguise. She's now been expelled from Ispace for good.  
  
Hirilnara: I still can't believe they let you have a car. You turned evilish because that's the effect continued pancake exposure has on people. Yay for stones! And yay for hyper!  
  
Feanare: Well, I'm glad you like it. The Valar will go down, someday.  
  
Pointy Ears Are My Thing: Uh, is 23 an unlucky number, then? Okay, I give in. Yes, Legolas got the fangirls. And I'm sure Pippin is very happy.  
  
And now, finally . . .  
  
Lost Pancake Tales Thirty: A Safe Return  
  
The last of the fangirls collapsed, a Hirilnara-thrown pancake clinging to her face. Legolas sighed, and as his assistants slumped to the ground picked up the portal generator from where it lay on his pile of equipment. Tweaking the settings, he created a flickering blue doorway and gathered up his equipment. Motioning the seven to follow - and bring Merrylyn with them - he stepped through.  
  
The elf had opened the portal straight into his Kitchen, and as the group stepped in he sighed. "It's good to be home."  
  
"Yes, Legolas, it is," came a familiar voice from behind him. The elf whirled to find Huinesoron, accompanied by a girl with very . . . odd . . . hair. He stared.  
  
Most of her hair was brown, but at the front it appeared to have turned yellow. Not blonde, golden or any other normal hair colour, but yellow. Seeing the elf's confusion, Huinesoron smiled. "I'm sorry, where are my manners? This is -"  
  
The girl cut him off. "I appreciate the help, cutey, but I can introduce myself." As the black and white clad elf stepped back, mumbling something about 'why does she *always* call me that?', she said, "Hi, I'm Liliac. I run the Middle Earth Animal Protection Society, but today I'm here in my capacity as Head of Assignments at the Interdimentional Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Elves. I believe you have two of my Agents with you."  
  
"You!" cried Legolas, his temper going at last. "You sent that treacherous fangirl out to get me!"  
  
Liliac frowned. "Fangirl? Neither of the Agents we sent out said that she lusted after you."  
  
Legolas gestured at his Assistants, and Hethien, helped by Lainy, brought forward Merrylyn's unconcious form. Hethien cleared her throat and spoke. "Ma'am . . . I'm afraid I have to report that when my mentor and guide Merrylyn found legolas, and was sure he was concious, she used a standard issue ISPCE radio to summon a group of fangirls. The fangirls used ISPCE portals to get to our location. I hypothesise that she gave them this classified technology, and that she is herself a fangirl."  
  
Liliac looked at the group of assistants. "Do you all agree with this conclusion?"  
  
There was a ragged chorus of yesses, and Chocolat Elf said, "I'm afraid we all missed it until that moment, however."  
  
Liliac nodded. "Then I suspect she will have to be punished. Do you, Legolas, wish to perform the punishment yourself, or shall I take her back to Ispace Headquarters and give her to the Head of Discipline?"  
  
Legolas considered this for a moment, and then shook his head. "I have spent far too much time around fangirls already. I'm afraid that if she stays here -"  
  
Whatever he was about to say was cut off by a groaning from floor level.Merrylyn opened her eyes and, while blinking them a few times to clear them, mumbled, "Where am I?" Then she looked up, saw Legolas, and squealed.  
  
Leaping up, the former Ispace agent lunged for the elf. It seemed she was about to get him, to push him to the ground, when . . .  
  
SPLAT!  
  
Merrylyn fell to thefloor, the shock of the pancake knocking her weakened system out instantly. Behind Legolas, Hirilnara lowered her arm. Liliac gave the girl an approving look.  
  
"That was a good throw. Your master is lucky to have such a skilled defender. If you ever fel the need to leave this place, be sure to contact me. I'm sure I can find a place in the Society for someone with your abilities." With that, the odd-haired girl motioned to Hethien to pick up Merrylyn and, with one last comment to Huinesoron - "Bye, cutey" - she and her Agent stepped through another blue portal and vanished.  
  
Huinesoron sighed. "I wish she'd stop doing that," he muttered, and then turned back to Legolas and his team. "So," he said, "you managed to rescue your master. Before Elanhin and I leave, I'd like to hear exactlty how it went."  
  
Bulma, Chocolat, Lainy, Amariel, Elanhin and Hirilnara looked at each other. This was going to be a loooong story . . .  
  
* * * *  
  
But as you lot have already heard it, I won't put it here.  
  
Well, we're back to the usual schedule. Next episode, Legolas will be splatting his way merrily through Middle-Earth as if he's never stopped.  
  
One thing - I'm thinking of doing a spinoff series about ISPCE. Is this a good idea? Why not tell me. In a review, of course.  
  
hS 


	40. Lost Pancake Tales ThirtyOne: Rosie Cott...

I'm back!  
  
A+student: Well, whenever you have the time.  
  
Liliac (fangirl in training): It's yellow. Yes it is. And I'm glad you liked the idea.  
  
Hirilnara: Yes, Legolas has trained you well. //Grabs copy of LotR// Begone from this place, Spirit of Fangirl!  
  
Roseblade22: Yay indeed. Argh, you get all the parties, and I get none. Ah, well, I'll write instead. Ohgods . . . I just had a horrible image of Gollum as a fangirl. Ugh. Yay! Psycho!Bilbo! Yay for long black coats! But not yay for klepto schoolkids. Yep, we're back on schedule. And I *still* haven't gone back to school. Hehehe.  
  
Bulma Greenleaf: I'm glad you liked it. I think all the Assistants and so forth are friends in the story. Not that they have much of a choice . . .  
  
Imbefaniel: I've heard it's very good.  
  
Bob: Glad you like it.  
  
Writer From Rivendell: Only if you seriously twist the definition of 'Mary-Sue'. Help! WfR is laughing evilly! I think EAMA would work well with ISPCE - or indeed the PPC - so I'll use them. Thanks. You're not having a nice day/ Why not?  
  
Thorn-Silvermoon: Riiiiiiight . . . that is a very odd quote.  
  
Pointy Ears Are My Thing: Right. Got it.  
  
Elfitchick: Yay for insanity! But reading this whole story would probably drive *me* mad, and I wrote it! Ooh . . . Communist Pineapples . . . I want one! Yup, I'll get Farmer Maggot . . . and his dogs, too.  
  
The Noble Platypus: I'm glad you like it. Ah, strewth, e's not thayt dayngerous. I 'ope. Yeah, you can have a cameo. I wonder how confused Legolas will be to meet a platypus . . .  
  
Elanhin: Yes, normal pancaking is back. And Elanhin will be back, just not in every episode.  
  
Pointy Ears Are My Thing: Yes, we're recruiting. We need more insane agents . . . you can work with Hethien until you're trained. You know you're mad, right?  
  
Amariel: I'm glad you like the Ispace idea. But don't drive Orlando mad, they need him . . . and the fangirls would kill you.  
  
The Noble Platypus: Ah, a platypus Agent . . . yes, that would work. Although poor Liliac may try and drag you into MEAPS to 'protect' you. But it'd work.  
  
Merrylyn: I'm glad you liked it. But I think I'll skip detailing the bit when Legolas was trapped with you. That's *too* vivid. Ooh, a rogue Agent escapes from the ISPCE dungeon . . . that can be a storyline for if I get stuck over in the other story.  
  
Malfoyelf: We apologise for the angst. Very sorry. Hmm . . . well, maybe Merrylyn wasn't thinking straight. Yes, everything's fine now. Poor you, being ill. I'll update!  
  
Roseblade22: //Backs away// Hyperactive child.  
  
Chocolat Elf: Yes, she was a fangirl. I can't believe the number of chapters *or* reviews . . . it's only been going six months! Poor you, back at school . . . well, have a new chapter anyway.  
  
AarIIe: Yeah, I had fun. But I couldn't read ff.net, so it wasn't all good.  
  
RedwingsFan: Yes, fangirls! And have I misinterpreted 'challenge' again? I thought it was *supposed* to be hard. Okay, don't eat it then. Uh . . . no one, sorry, I got a little confused.  
  
Malfoyelf: It doesn't make noises at me . . . maybe it doesn't like you. I'll update anyway.  
  
And now, one of the famous short chapters.  
  
Lost Panckae Tales Thirty-One: Rosie Cotton  
  
Rose Cotton was bored. Her Sam had left with his master Frodo months ago, disappeared into the Old Forest. *She* believed that he would come back, but no one else would listen to her. Her family thought she was mad, pining after him, but she knew he would be back.  
  
Or she had known. He had left in autumn, and it was now spring. It had been far too long. Perhaps - although it was almost unthinkable - he had really died. The Old Forest was a dangerous place, by all accounts.  
  
As the hobbit lass followed this depressing train of thought, she came to a small grove of trees. This was where she always came when she was missing Sam. For some reason, it reminded her of him. Perhaps it was the slight elvish hint to the place. Sam had always been mad about elves.  
  
As if her thoughts had summoned him, an elf stepped out from behind a tree. He was clad all in black, almost invisible even from such close range. She gasped.  
  
"Hello, little one," said the elf, gently. "And who might you be?"  
  
"Um, I'm, er, Rose Cotton of Bywater, sir."  
  
"Rose Cotton?" repeated the elf. "Now where do I know that name . . . ah, yes. Sam kept going on about you."  
  
"Sam?" she blurted out, forgetting for a moment her manners. "You know my Sam?"  
  
"Oh, indeed I do," replied the elf. "He's safe and well, and he will come back to you. He misses you a lot, you know."  
  
"Oh, thank you!" cried Rosie, and hugged the elf around the waist. He allowed this for a moment, and then sighed. "I'm very sorry for what I now have to do," he said. Rose looked up, wondering what he meant, and . . .  
  
SPLAT!  
  
As the hobbit girl blacked out, Legolas lowered her gently to the ground, ensuring that she wasn't harmed. Then he sighed. "Being captured must have had more of an effect on me than I thought," he muttered as he wandered away. "I've started being nice to them!"  
  
* * * *  
  
Yes, we're back to normal service. A little bit of splatting in the Shire should get Legolas back on form.  
  
If you're wondering about the inspiration for this chapter, it's from Rose's first line to Sam in Return of the King:  
  
'Hullo, Sam!' said Rosie. "'Where've you been? They said you were dead; but I've been expecting you since the Spring. You haven't hurried, have you?'  
  
Well, why would she, unless Legolas had told her to?  
  
hS 


	41. Lost Pancake Tales ThirtyTwo: The Sackvi...

I'm back.  
  
Writer From Rivendell: I'm glad you like it. I think that definition of MSs is too tight. Thanks. Mary Sue authors' opinions shouldn't concern you. Don't worry about them.  
  
Liliac (fangirl in training): He'll stop being nice when he gets over his abduction, never fear.  
  
Bilbo-san: Ah, a slashfan. Lovely.  
  
Raven Firedragon: Yeah, poor him. Yes, he's back. And I think Pointy heard you.  
  
Imbefaniel: Ah, how nice, hyper fanfic authors. Funfun.  
  
Merrylyn: The conscience will leave soon enough. I will not write any form of sex scene ever again . . . no. 13 has scarred me.  
  
Elfitchick: Yes, they do. Yay! I get to be tortured! I'll update now.  
  
Is loves plurals: I'm glad you like them . . . or it . . . or whatever.  
  
The Noble Platypus: Yes, a cameo for the Ispace Platypus. I'm glad you liked it.  
  
Bulma Greenleaf: Don't worry, he'll stop soon. I'm glad you like it.  
  
Elanhin: Yes, poor poor Rosie. Oh, how creepy.  
  
The Almighty Din: I'm glad you like it.  
  
Nox3: I'm glad you like it. We've already had a couple of big battles, but no one else uses the pancakes. //Shrugs//  
  
Hirilnara: Yes, he's almost in character. Not for long. Yes, you're babbling. Darn, no escape from the hyper child.  
  
Malfoyelf: Yes, he'll be back to his evil self. Evil bell sprites? I want one!  
  
Lady of mowzerness: Hehehe . . . you know, I agree about Haldir. He's so annoying.  
  
AarIIe: Don't worry, he'll get better. Yay for SB splatting!  
  
SeanBigg'sElf: Well, no worries.  
  
Pointy Ears Are My Thing: No, you can't.  
  
Roseblade22: Yes you are. Er . . . what other pancake epics are there? I call everyone, including my parents, children, so don't worry. Well, I skip parties generally . . . mainly because I can complain then. I've had a couple of days at school now, and I'm so tired . . . yes, poor Rosie.  
  
Pineapple Princess: Well, you can read it later. Nerdy rebels . . . nice image. Poor you, cheerleading is designed to make you look silly. Homework is evil.  
  
Malfoyelf: Sorry, I was busy. Yes, there are female orcs. The do actually breed in the Tolkien universe, unlike the Jackson one. Yes, it's a good idea.  
  
Chocolat Elf: Yes, nice Legolas. Don't worry, he'll revert. I agree, school, homework and GCSEs are all evil. Yup, only six months. I worked hard.  
  
If you don't know who I am, then you are stupid as well as ugly! ^_^: I'm sorry, I don't respond well to insults.  
  
And now, from a tired mind . . .  
  
Lost Pancake Tales Thirty-Two: The Sackville Bagginses  
  
Leaving Bywater, Legolas didn't even bother with a portal, walking swiftly up the road to Hobbiton and his next targets . . .  
  
Lobelia Sackville-Baggins was still not over her pleasure at finally getting possession of Bag End. After being thwarted by Bilbo's unexpected return right before she had taken possession, she had waited for the fool to die for *fifty-nine years*. But no, he had persisted with insanely good health.  
  
Then, when he had *finally* left, it emerged that the hole had been given to his useless nephew Frodo. She had had to wait seventeen more years before that one had also disappeared, finally selling her the house. Now she lived there with her son Lotho - her poor husband had died years ago - and . . .  
  
There was a knock at the door. Lobelia rose with a sigh. The neighbours had never liked her, even starting rumours that she had driven Frodo out. As if she would! But they persisted, and that knock - why couldn't they use the bell? - was probably someone coming to complain about her son's activities. Like she could stop him.  
  
The aging hobbit strode to the door and pulled it back. "Yes, what is it?" she snapped, and then looked up at the figure in black. It shook its head.  
  
"Lobelia Sackville Baggins, then. Frodo told me about you. But I never believed exactly how bad you were." He sighed. "It seems I was wrong. You are quite bad enough to merit this."  
  
SPLAT!  
  
Lobelia crumpled to the floor, the pancake covering her face. As her consciousness faded, she heard Lotho's voice, "What the -", followed by a wet splatting sound. Then all thought was behind her.  
  
* * * *  
  
I'm sorry it's short. But I'm tired.  
  
Reviews, please?  
  
hS 


	42. Lost Pancake Tales ThirtyThree: Farmer M...

Here I am again . . . the weird one.  
  
Liliac - your local pyro-psych: You are correct, that was a good idea. Well done.  
  
Kyma: No worries. You mean people out there actually do homework *before* writing/reading fanfics? How extremely odd.  
  
The girl who thinks you are really cute and . . .[Aw, screw it, let's call her Pointy]: Many things are good if they allow missing church.  
  
Roseblade22: I must be more awake now. Johnny Depp . . . without eyes . . . brain hurts . . .  
  
Pointy Ears Are My Thing: . . . you do realise that this is my girlfriend you're talking to, right? You're insane? No, really? And why would Platy get nervous? She won't get trampled!  
  
The Noble Platypus: Ouch, painful capitals. I would do longer, but I'm bad at that.  
  
SeanBigg'sElf: Aww, but I don't like worries.  
  
Merrylyn: You might like the story mentioned at the end of this chapter, you get a mention in it. Pancakes? Oh, you'll get much better than that soon. Thirteen was evil . . . now I *know* it's an unlucky number!  
  
Elanhin: Everyone hates the SBs. Poor you.  
  
Imbefaniel: z z z z z z z . . . wha'? Oh, yeah.Odd song.Well, removing stories is all part of the experience. //Reads next few lines// You know, if you added Lelo . . . sorry, Legolas, into that, you couold actually call it a fanfic. Considering the number of SilverShinyMoonStarLands we've had . . . plus elves with golden ears . . .  
  
Pointy Ears Are My Disguise: Actually, no one threatened you. Okay, here's the thing: I don't like excessive, borderline-obsessive flirting. That's all. And I suspected they were you, but I felt like typing it all. Ooh, pretty sign. The Raven liked it.  
  
Hirilnara: Ugh, fangirl capture not nice. I've included an ad for your story at the bottom of this chapter, so go on! Write more! But please switch over to accepting unsigned reviews.  
  
Amariel: Glad you liked it. Homework bad. But then, nine copies of the same review also bad. What happened?  
  
Bilbo-san: Yay for splatted hobbits! //Sniffs// . . . z z z z z z z . . .  
  
Legolas-lover-baby: Oyah, I'll go and read that.  
  
Malfoyelf: Yay! No worries, I like giving out data. More homework? Why does everyone get that stuff? Uh . . . let's forget the bell sprites, yah?  
  
Writer From Rivendell: Yup, that is indeed good. Oh, if only we could splat everyone who needs it . . .  
  
Bulma Greenleaf: Sorry, I'm not good with long. No one likes her.  
  
SavVyVibEs: Glad you like it!  
  
And now, finally . . .  
  
Lost Pancake Tales Thirty-Three: Farmer Maggot  
  
Farmer Maggot sat at home with his dogs, his wife, and his children. As he sipped at his ale, he thought hard about the news he had heard.  
  
Since young Frodo Baggins had vanished, along with his servant and the sons of the Thain and the Master of Buckland, Maggot had made a point of litening to any news brought in from outside the Shire. Not that he would go looking in the woods for elves or dwarves, oh no, but if he happened to encounter any, he would ask.  
  
Recently, even with the low traffic of the Shire, he had heard disturbing news. News of war, of invasions, and of a place that even the Hobbits still dreaded . . . Mordor.It seemed that something had happened, and he couldn't quite shake the feeling that young Baggins was somehow involved. Silly, of course. Utterly impossible.  
  
The farmer looked up, surprised at the lack of noise from his family. He had been so deep in thought that he had lost track of time, and now saw a shocking site.  
  
All the hobbits in his family were flat on the floor, their faces covered with some kind of pale pastry. Grip, Fang and Wolf were nowhere to be seen, and in their place was a tall stranger in black. Far too tall to be a hobbit, he was, and even larger than one of the Big Folk. He had to be an elf.  
  
The elf in black stood and stared at Maggot. the farmer stared back. Eventually, the elf spoke.  
  
"Good day, farmer. I apologise for having disturbed your musings. As you can see, I took every effort to keep my activities quiet - I'm lucky that most animals like me - but, alas, it seems it was in vain. Well, if I cannot pancake you in secret . . ."  
  
SPLAT!  
  
". . . then I shall have to do it now. Good day to you."  
  
With that, Legolas exited the house, ducking the low door. As he wandered off down the hill, he muttered, "That lot up at Bag End were just what I needed. I think I'm back on form."  
  
* * * *  
  
Another update! Hooray!  
  
No more note for now . . . but wait, there is. I have an IMPORTANT ANNOUNCEMENT!  
  
My Empire of the Pancake has reached its next stage. Our very own Hirilnara has penned the first independant Pancakes spinoff/fanfic. It can be found on her new profile, under the name Hirilnara, or by the link from my Bio page. All give your support to 'Diary of a Pancake Fangirl' - the Extended Pancake Empire!  
  
hS 


	43. Lost Pancake Tales ThirtyFour: Hamfast G...

Under duress, I have continued.  
  
Imbefaniel: Sorry, the gold-tipped ears was from a different fic. Foot long ears? Weird . . . Ooh, you're hyper!  
  
Elanhin: Shh, the El-kids should be along in about . . . //works it out// three-ish chapters. We have this, then some Balrogs, then Gandalf the Bleached . . . then El and El. That do?  
  
Kyma: Sorry, I'm not good with long. Fanfics should come first . . . //does a Jedi mind trick// You don't want to do your homework . . .  
  
Writer From Rivendell: Yeah, I want to splat people too . . . I wonder if I could persuade my school that a Splat the Teachers event is *good* for charity term. Someone thought you were an elf? Yeesh . . .  
  
Roseblade22: Well, I'm glad you liked it. Poor you, all those parties. How will you survive?  
  
Merrylyn: Well, if she starts making money, I'm sure I will. Well, everyone has to be pancaked. None can escape! And yes, you get more. Soon-ish, as in when I get round to it.  
  
The Noble Platypus: Well, you will find out sometime. Honest.  
  
Bulma Greenleaf: I'm glad you liked it. I can write all this because I'm mad. Didn't you know?  
  
Pointy Ears Are My Thing: Exactly my reasoning. A shouting scythe cannot be good to splat. Aw, poor Boromir. What did he do wrong?  
  
Hirilnara: Yep, you've got it. Don't worry about the adverts, I enjoy it. Well, I'll try for longer chapters if I can. And the kitchen returns next episode!  
  
SeanBigg'sElf: Okay, as you wish.  
  
Amariel: That's technology for you. Annoyingly evil. Poor Legolas, deafened by Dwarvish screaming.  
  
Malfoyelf: Evil bell sprites probably burn well. Get a flamethrower. Hehehe . . .  
  
Elfitchick: Poor you, unable to review. Computers can be evil sometimes. Yes, Nice!Evil!Legolas was disturbing.  
  
And now, as you have all been so patient . . .  
  
Lost Pancake Tales Thirty-Four: Hamfast Gamgee  
  
Gaffer Gamgee sat in his garden and looked up at the stars. It had been a long day. He had been gardening for most of it, and his old bones were really creaking. Sometimes he thought he should give it all up.  
  
If only young Samwise were still here. He'd been a real help in the spare time the Bagginses had given him. The garden had been really beautiful. But no, the silly young Hobbit had run off with his Master Frodo, off into the wilds, to be eaten by wolves like as not.  
  
And now he had those horrible Sackville-Bagginses as neighbours. Sometimes he thought he should just up and leave Bagshot Row. But he couldn't. Not even an invasion of the Big Folk would make him!  
  
Speaking of the Big Folk, one of them seemed to be walking along the lane. It was dressed all in black, and upon reaching the hedge it stopped. The Gaffer was reminded of the horrible figure that had turned up just before Sam had left, and he shuddered. When the figure spoke, however, it had a soft, lyrical voice.  
  
"Master Gamgee?" it asked. When the Gaffer nodded, the figure spoke again. "Oh, good. I thought I was going to have to spend hours checking all these holes. Anyway, this is for all the times your son – or is he your grandson? I can't work it out – anyway, all the times Samwise Gamgee has annoyed me. Goodbye."  
  
The Gaffer tried to rise, to protest, but . . .  
  
SPLAT!  
  
The hobbit was old, so the pancake affected him faster than most. He dropped down to the floor and was unconscious before he hit the grass. When he awoke the next morning, however, there were still footprints in the dusty lane.  
  
He could clearly see the Man's trail move up the road and then suddenly cut off. Equally visible were the inexplicable set right behind – well, on top of – them. The smaller ones . . .  
  
* * * *  
  
Yes, I know Legolas is an elf, not a man, but the Gaffer wouldn't. As to the second set, if you haven't read Hirilnara's 'Diary of a Pancake Fangirl', do so now! It's linked from my profile, so you have no excuse. Give the poor girl some reviews; she's new to this.  
  
hS 


	44. Lost Pancake Tales ThirtyFive: Balrogs!

Hi! I'm ba-ack!  
  
Liliac: Um . . . Sam has had all the time from Rivendell to Lorien to be annoying, and about thirty days of that was skipped by Prof Tolkien, between Rivendell and Hollin. Think about it. And I'm sure she can do both. She should have enough time.  
  
Writer From Rivendell: Ah, well, cheerleaders go too. A fifteen year old believes in elves? What is the world coming to?  
  
Bilbo-san: Yeah . . . is 'gaffer' an abbreviation for 'granfather', or is this his father? I don't know, hence Legolas' confusion.  
  
The Noble Platypus: Legolas has a vendetta against *everyone*. It's part of the plot.  
  
Pointy Ears Are My Thing: Well, no one ever hates the hero. It's part of the job description. Um, yes, we've gotten Bilbo . . . a while back, just before Elrond.  
  
Elanhin: Well, I suspect the twins will be . . . ooh, the chapter after next?  
  
Imbefaniel: No-one gets as many reviews as they give, especially if they're as generous as you.  
  
Hirilnara: Advertise, bully . . . same thing. Well, update whenever you can, okay?  
  
Roseblade22: Yes, I am the Master! I have returned! Nah not really. Poor you - no sleep, no free time. At weekends, I sit and write. Tea and scones indeed. Yeah, bad names.  
  
Elfitchick: Yay for evil! And don't worry, I will splat more.  
  
Malfoyelf: Nope, there's only the one. I'm afraid I need my flamethrower, and Ispace will be discussing near-elven things later. Yup, that works. Yes, we will have Smaug soon, but I'm afraid the Mary-Voodoos are my invention. I came up with them a while ago. Well, actually, Thanduril did . . . so don't mess with the Mini!  
  
SeanBigg'sElf: Short term memory loss . . . I have a lot of that too. Bad idea.  
  
Kingmaker: Drugs? I'm addicted to bleeprin! It's lovely, especially the mixed version of bleepesteem (TM). And you may think I'm crazy, but . . . wait, I *am* crazy.  
  
Bulma Greenleaf: Yay! Happy birthday! (Yes, I know I already said that). Well, this one is . . . just wait and see.  
  
Amariel: No! Do not lose interest! LotR is your life! We need your story! Without it, the fandom is lessened! Keep writing, please! And keep reading too. I need the reviews.  
  
And now, it's time, once again.  
  
Lost Pancake Tales Thirty-Five: Balrogs!  
  
Legolas stormed into the kitchen, his cloak swirling around him. Striding to the the conference room, he threw himself down in a chair and, glaring at the stone table, declared, "I really hate hobbits. And do you know why? Because they are so irritatingly cute!"  
  
Then he looked up.  
  
The Pancake Lord's scream startled the other seven in the room to instant attention. The Assistants, Huinesoron and Elanhin stared at the elf in black as he pointed at the ceiling and exclaimed, "What in the name of the Valar is *that*?"  
  
Huinesoron glanced up, frowned for a second, and then smiled and said, "Oh." He raised his right arm, and the burning *thing* that had been flying around came to rest on the proffered limb. As he trail of fire dissipated, the creature revealed itself to be a small, winged, horned biped with a firey whip. Huinesoron smiled at it.  
  
"Legolas," he said, "meet Thanduril."  
  
Legolas stared. "I know what my father looks like," he said, shakily, "and that is most certainly not him!"  
  
Huinesoron sighed and shook his head. "Ah, Legolas," he said, "when will you learn to pay attention? I did not say Thranduil, did I? No, this is Thanduril the Mini-Balrog. A very useful little creature who Miss Cam was kind enough to let me adopt. he likes eating mary-Sues and fangirls, so I thought you'd like to know he was around."  
  
Legolas was about to ask who Miss Cam was, and why the creature had his father's name - well, nearly - when from outside the door there came an almightly roar. As Thanduril eagerly echoes the sound, Huinesoron's eyes widened.  
  
"Legolas," he said, slowly, "I think . . . I think Thandy's cousin has come to visit."  
  
As Legolas stared at the other elf in fear and realisation, the wall around the door reverbrated once, twice . . .  
  
. . . and collapsed, to reveal the lower half of Durin's Bane, one of the mighty Valaraukar . . . the Balrog of Moria.  
  
The instant it appeared, Legolas launced a pancake, while simeltaneously ordering his Assistants to arm themselves. As the pancakeapproached the demon, it quickly blackened until what hit the Balrog was a mere blackened crisp, capable of doing no damage whatsoever. The eight watched it fall to the floor as a pile of ashes, watched the great beast step forward and bring the rest of the wall crashing down . . . and then there was no time for thought.  
  
Later, when the Assistants discussed the battle, Hirilnara recalled best the sounds. The crunching of rubble to dust under the Balrog's feet, the wet splats of the pancakes that missed their mark, the 'whoosh' of Elanhin's fireballs. For Lainy, it was the smells that remained - melting rock, blackening pancake, and burning cloth when Amariel had accidentally moved too close to the Balrog, and had lost her sleeve to the flames.  
  
Amariel herself remembered the feel - the heat in the air causing sweat to drip down her brow, the pain as fragments of the ceiling hit her head, and the feel of her arm as the skin began to blacken and crisp, before Bulma had pushed her to the floor and put it out. Bulma, too, recalled feelings, but of a different kind - the adrenaline rushing through her veins, the lightheadedness that followed, and through it all the fear of death.  
  
Chocolat had vivid images left in her mind. The Balrog leaning down to slash at Legolas with its sword before the elf had leapt nimbly away, Thanduril flying down from what remained of the ceiling to bombard his larger cousin, and Huinesoron, side by side with Elanhin, defending Bulma as she tried to deal with Amariel's wounds.  
  
All five, however, recalled the climax of the battle. How Legolas had mounted the broken conference table, standing tall and proud amid the ruin of his domain. How the Balrog had turned to face him on hearing the Elf Lord's cry of "None shall escape the Pancake!". And how their master had used his last strength to throw a bucket of water at the demon, temporarily dousing the flame. Not for long, but long enough for a carefully aimed volley of pancakes from all those in the chamber. Most had missed, been burned up in the remaining inferno, but enough had gotten through . . .  
  
SPLAT!  
  
. . . for the great beast to stagger, waver, and at last to fall, crashing to the ground amid the ruins of the kitchen.  
  
Legolas had looked down at the great creature and sighed. "It seems," he said weakly, "as if we will have to find a new base of operations."  
  
With that he had tried to step forward, but instead had fainted and collapsed onto the heap of rubble beside the Balrog. The other seven had dragged him out into the Dimrill Dale, setting up a temporary kitchen by the side of the Mirrormere.  
  
* * * *  
  
Yep, well, that's it.  
  
Now, about that Mini-Balrog. Mini-Balrogs are the creation of Miss Cam, also known as Camilla Sandman. They come from the Official Fanfiction Academy of Middle-Earth, OFUM. The OFUM stories are archied on this site under her bio (which is linked from *my* bio, under my favourite authors), and at her website, misssandman.com. The latter is also the place to go if you want to adopt a Mini-Balrog of your own, although I strongly suggest you read OFUM and its sequel first. In fact, I strongly suggest you read them anyway. They are amazing.  
  
Well, that's all from me. Please, leave a review for lil' ol' me.  
  
hS 


	45. Lost Pancake Tales ThirtySix: Elladan an...

Yes, I'm back again.  
  
Writer From Rivendell: Uh . . . spellcheck. Yeah. Unfortunately, Notepad doesn't have one, and Word isn't working. So I don't have one right now.  
  
Liliac: Alright, alright, calm down. I'm sorry. Yes, you can have the balrog.  
  
Elanhin: Alright, alright, I'll do the twins! If only to stop you pestering me! Nah, only kidding.  
  
Pointy Ears Are My Thing: Yes, minis are very cute. Along with being miniture evil firey demons, o'course.  
  
Huinesoron: Woah, odd experience. That's *my* name. But where do you get the idea that it's female? The only -on names I can remember are Fingon and Turgon - both of whom were male. No, wait, there's Ereinion, aka Gil-Galad. He's male, too.  
  
The Noble Platypus: You'll have to wait and see where they set up next. I couldn't reveal such information.  
  
Kyma: I'm glad you like it!  
  
Imbefaniel: Ooh, six reviewsfor the first chapter. Well done.  
  
Raven Firedragon: Well, I'm glad you like it. And the weapon was a very good idea, well done.  
  
Hirilnara: I'm glad you like it. And I'll write more everything!  
  
SacredGoggles: Mad person. But I'm glad you like it!  
  
Amariel: As if Thanduril (No, that's not a typo any more, he really is called Thanduril) would eat my reviewers. No! Thandy, down!  
  
Merrylyn: No, don't torture the bot. It's a nice bot, usually. And don't torture my characters too much, I need them. Yes, Thandy may be cute, but rmember, he's evil too. I'm glad you like my writing. //Is flattered//  
  
Bulma Greenleaf: Yay! That trailer is great! And I'm glad you liked the chapter.  
  
Black Rider of Gondor: Yup, evil!Legolas is pretty rare. And of course you can write a whatever - just as long as you tell me where it is so I can link to it.  
  
Chocolat Elf: You are forgiven. Don't do it again. Yes, it was a shame, but all characters must get splatted. That is the way of things . . . the way of the pancakes.  
  
Elenea: Yes, I do that too. Lots of handwriting, no computers. Argh! Your favourite line was from an author's note? Hmm.  
  
Lily Among the Thorns-89: I'm glad you like it.  
  
Roseblade 22: Well, you can get them from Misssandman.com. And it's Thanduril, not Thranduil. I don't just sit and write at the weekends! I . . . um . . . well, okay then. Will sounds slightly obsessed. Maybe you should blow him up. Or I can lend you Thandy for a bit. But I'm afraid I'm for too busy to come with you.  
  
Azaelia sapphire: The thing about changing the format is that it would mean no one would read the author's notes at the bottom. AIEE! Not the fuzzy pink bunny rabbits! Oh, and longer chapters are difficult. You see, nothing actually happens in these things.  
  
Malfoyelf: All right, I'll do a couple more in that time. Don't worry.  
  
Orlando-lennon: Yes, it is a little long. I never thought it would be!  
  
Ooh, lots of lovely reviews. Thank you, people! And now, onto our scheduled story . . .  
  
Lost Pancake Tales Thirty-Six: Elladan and Elrohir  
  
The sons of Elrond were bored, bored, bored. Ever since Estel had left again, off on a quest to save the world - he'd always been into that sort of thing - their sister Arwen had been moping. Their father kept trying to snap her out of it, but they felt he was going about it the wrong way. Telling her 'He'll die soon, so forget about him' was not the best of plans.  
  
But the twins were bored. Right now, they were bored and sitting by the river, listenig to Glorfindel telling a group of their father's people about the time he had defeated a balrog.  
  
"So there I was, running with the remains of the people of Gondolin along the pass, when suddenly we were ambushed! A horde of orcs set upon us, and a Balrog was with them!"  
  
Here he paused, and the elves all made suitably shocked sounds. Elladan looked at his brother and, in unspoken agreement, they rose and moved silently into the forest.  
  
When they were out of earshot of the gathered elves, Elladan said, "They've all heard that tale so many times. They must be getting bored."  
  
Elrohir smiled. "Shall we go and liven it up for them?"  
  
Elladan nodded. "I believe I still have my balrog costume, and I know you've got that golden wig somewhere."  
  
Elrohir nodded, and was about to continue when a voice spoke from the trees above them.  
  
"I'm sorry boys, but I happen to like that story. I'm just going over to listen to it. But you cannot be permitted to interfere."  
  
Then the twins saw a dark figure swinging down from the trees, saw it thrust its arms towards them, and . . .  
  
SPLAT!  
  
Legolas watched as the dark-haired pair staggered and fell. He thought it amusing that they managed, even unconciously, to do everything the same - both were tracing the same patterns on the ground, until both fell together at the base of a tree. He looked down at them for a long moment, and then swung off through the trees. He had to hear Glorfindel's tale - there had not been time on his previous visit.  
  
* * * *  
  
Well, that's the twins down. We hope you enjoyed your stay.  
  
Oh, yes. I may actually take this story, remove the Pancake Lord, and post it separately. The tale of Glorfindel and the Balrog is a pretty story to tell.  
  
And one more thing. Our very own Hirilnara, apart from writing the first independant Pancakes spinoff, has also created a Pancakes poster. To request a copy of this, email me at huinesoron@hotmail.com and I'll send you it in JPEG format. Don't bother asking in a review, I will not acknowledge that. Thank you.  
  
This is a serious offer, and free of charge. I couldn't make you pay anyway. Smile!  
  
hS 


	46. Lost Pancake Tales ThirtySeven: Orcs and...

Back.  
  
Pointy Ears Are My Thing: No, we couldn't have them bored. And doing the spellcheck thingy would require more time.  
  
Kyma: Ah, Hyper!Kyma. Yup, I've seen the trailer. Then I got all depressed about how long it is until the film comes out . . .  
  
Writer From Rivendell: Well, we may see sometime. If I get round to it.  
  
AzSapphire: Evil bunnies . . . maybe. And I'm too old to change my formatting now. I'm nearly 18, for Eru's sake!  
  
Bilbo-san: You may yet get to.  
  
Fireblade K'Chona: I think the Assistants already got Eowyn. Crossovers will have to wait until I've finished M.E., and as for you . . . well, you could get hit at the Big Battle.  
  
Elenea: Ah, now I understand. Everything makes sense. Kindasorta.  
  
Hirilnara: I'm sure Legolas will know what's happening in time. And I'll tell you when I update.  
  
Elanhin: No! Don't stop reviewing! Otherwise I might have to drop you from the Cast.  
  
Liliac: Glad you liked it.  
  
Merrylyn: Glorfindel tells the LPT . . . that would make a good ending to the story, actually. Must mirember that.  
  
Bulma Greenleaf: Ah, but there are two of them. You really think it's getting better? Thank 'oo!  
  
Elfitchick: Computers are often stupid. But we must be thankful for them.  
  
Fireblade K'Chona: well, I'm glad you like it. Eowyn we already got (although that scene *is* very annoying). Ooh, another fangirl. Lovely.  
  
Wynjara: Nope, probably not. Warning: Too many pancakes can seriously damage your health.  
  
UnDeadGoat: Well, I did *try* for wonderful . . . and Fated!Love isn't all it's cracked up to be. Don't believe what you read!  
  
Amariel: Ooh, lovely. School. And I have heard of the game but only through Of Mice And Men. Evil book.  
  
Roseblade22: //Pictures a girl dancing with a cardboard Legolas - complete with bow - all night long// Hmm. Interesting idea. Ooh, staying at home for the weekend . . . good idea. And I'm glad you really^12 liked it. ;)  
  
UnDeadGoat: Yep, we got Bilbo, and he is time travelling. And saved Frodo. What a good elf he is.  
  
Chocolat Elf: Now, now. everyone has to be splatted. Your . . . sock drawer? Oddness. And I prolly will do the Glorfindel story . . . sometime . . .  
  
SeanBigg'sElf: Don't worry about it. And I was counting the one in the original story where Galadriel got splatted as her go.  
  
Malfoyelf: Okay, so I'm slow. Ooh, more fanart. When it's done, please do send it to me.  
  
UnDeadGoat: No, no one will hunt anyone down. And hence, I will not reveal my appearence. Yes, go and type!  
  
Okay. This is a bookverse one, just so I can get orcs and uruks in the same chapter. In the film, Ugluk was replaced by Lurtz . . . sort of. Just read it, yah?  
  
Lost Pancake Tales Thirty-Seven: Orcs and Uruks  
  
A horde of man-shaped creatures swarmed across the green fields of Rohan. Leaving behind them a broad swathe of trampled grass and earth, they headed north-west, towards the forest of Fangorn and the Ring of Isengard. With them they carried two smaller forms - halflings, the creatures they had been ordered to capture. These were the Orcs and the Uruk-Hai, servants of the Red Eye and the White Hand.  
  
Ugluk, leader of Saruman's fighting Uruk-Hai, was fed up. He had to lead a gaggle of stupid mountain-maggots through Whiteskin land, all the time listening to them complain. That Grishnakh was the worst - always going on about Sauron's precious Nazgul and complaining that the prisoners should be taken to Lugburz. No thought for the ones doing the real work, those in Saruman's service. And now he had to march them through daylight! Of all the things he didn't want to do, force-marching the feeble little things was right up at the top.  
  
Those blasted halflings were sleeping now, tired out. Ugluk could see the sense in Sauron's plan, wiping out all the weak, but he served only one master - Saruman of the White Hand.  
  
And now that Grishnakh had come back from the river, he could get on with it.  
  
At that moment, something happened that he did not expect. A section of the ground in front of him suddenly lifted up, and an elf jumped up. An elf! In Rohan! What was that doing there?  
  
Ugluk was about to call his troops down on the elf, when suddenly it raised one hand, said, "Goodbye, Mr Uruk-Hai," and launched something at the Uruk. Ugluk looked straight at the projectile, and so . . .  
  
SPLAT!  
  
. . . it hit him square in the face. As he staggered back, he heard the sound of others in his group falling, and many, many splats. Then he fell to the ground, and heard no more for a while.  
  
Legolas stood at the centre of the devastation. All around him, on the broken earth, orcs lay unconcious. All were down, pancakes firmly on their faces. Now he just had to hope that Pippin didn't wake up and start eating them all, like he had in Lorien, so long ago . . .  
  
* * * *  
  
No plot, no inspiration . . . but I had to update. People keep asking me to.  
  
The poster's still available, if you want one. Email to huinesoron@hotmail.com.  
  
hS 


	47. Lost Pancake Tales ThirtyEight: The Lone...

Yes, I've managed to update quickly. Be thankful.  
  
Liliac of the purple cloak: Oh, just for fun. And he can't take an Assistant . . . that would ruin the whole point of it!  
  
UnDeadGoat: Yes, he will splat himself eventually. Yes, I *am* insane. Iarwain Ben-adar means 'Oldest and Fatherless', and is what Elrond calls Bombadil. Both of them rode, but in different universes. Legolas splats everyone, and I think we're out of room for Assistants now. My spelling is bad for reasons explained in my bio, and yes, Legolas caused the loss of the Ring.  
  
Writer From Rivendell: Now, like I could tell the fangirls what to do. Yay! Another person likes me enough to Favourite me!  
  
The Noble Platypus: Argh, knew I'd forgotten something. I think we'll have to skip Bill. But at least Sam's Pans won't get Legolas.  
  
Deiseach: Hehehe . . . I suspect lots of people won't be able to keep a straight face around pancakes ever again.  
  
Elanhin: Ooh. Rome. Pretty.  
  
Hirilnara: Well, he gets back in the one after this, kind of. I'm not sure if he'll go back to the kitchen or straight to the Battle. Any preference?  
  
UnDeadGoat: No, I will never get splatted ('cos I'm wonderful), and everyone should know the time between the party and Frodo leaving. I would guess that percussion instruments are pretty much universal. Yay! Urple! And how many sets of *elf* twins do you know? Yay Grishnakh!  
  
Bulma Greenleaf: I have had quite a few poster requests, yes. But I'm no' sure how many.  
  
Malfoyelf: School on a Saturday is evil. Don't worry, my art is guaranteed to be worse than yours. A plot? Well, actually, kind of.  
  
Lady of Mowzerness: Well, we try to splat everyone in the end. Try.  
  
Roseblade22: Yes, free time is very useful. It's fun to write! Ooh, so you have two other authors putting you in their stories? Well done!  
  
Merrylyn: Well, I try.  
  
And now, from the pen - keyboard - of Huinesoron . . .  
  
Lost Pancake Tales Thirty-Eight: The Lonely Mountain  
  
Bilbo had just slipped away down the tunnel into the Lonely Mountain, Balin with him, leaving Thorin and his other eleven companions sitting on the rocky ledge. The dwarves were settling down to puzzle over what to do about Smaug when suddenly a dark figure stepped out onto the ledge. They stared at it for a moment before it spoke.  
  
"My father is not very pleased about you leaving," it said. "He feels that you could at least have said goodbye. So now, I have come to show you the error of your ways."  
  
"And how will you do that, elf?" cried Thorin Oakenshield. The elf in black sighed.  
  
"Like this."  
  
SPLAT!  
  
Thorin staggered and fell to the ground. His companions stared in horror for a moment before they too fell victim to the pancakes. When all had fallen, Legolas stood for a moment, cloak billowing around him, and then ran down the passageway into the mountain.  
  
On the way he encountered Balin. The old dwarf probably wouldn't have seen him, but the elf took no chances and pancaked him anyway. Then, further down, he slipped silently past a cup, bobbing along in midair. He knew from tales told later that it was carried by Bilbo Baggins wearing the One Ring, and fortunately the hobbit did not notice him.  
  
Then, at last, Legolas burst out into the gold chamber of Smaug. The dragon still slept, and a silent elf would not awaken him. However, he was on the edge of stirring, and Legolas knew that Bilbo had not yet reached the top of the passage. If the dragon noticed the theft too soon, history could be changed, and that would not be good.  
  
And so, Legolas engaged in the greatest, and perhaps the most dangerous, pancaking of his career so far. Working his way up to the gallery carved above the dragon's lair, he stitched several dozen pancakes together into one huge dessert. Carefully he lifted it, and . . .  
  
SPLAT!  
  
. . . dropped it straight onto the sleeping dragon's head.  
  
The silence was deafening for a moment as Legolas held his breath, waiting for a reaction that never came. Then, a 'pop' split the air, and a blue portal appeared next to the elf. Through it barrelled a breathless Lainy. Legolas watched impassively as the girl picked herself up, but her words shocked him into action.  
  
"Huinesoron . . . he's under attack . . . fangirls . . ."  
  
Grabbing the girl, he dived through the portal . . .  
  
. . . and into the greatest battle of his life.  
  
* * * *  
  
Wasn't that fun?  
  
hS 


	48. Lost Pancake Tales ThirtyNine: The Final...

Yes. Well. I've been a little tied up in a variety of stuff - not least trying to write three linked chapters - so it's been a while. But the update has finally come. And before Christmas too.  
  
Kyma: Yes, fangirls are here. Poor li'l me.  
  
Liliac of the Purple Cloak: We apologised to Smaug in the intermission. I think I need some more flameproof clothes . . .  
  
Writer From Rivendell: I'm glad I managed to incite a laugh or two. That is what I'm here for, after all.  
  
Hirilnara: Yep, in kitchen right about now.  
  
Bilbo-san: Yes, two, and then . . . nothing.  
  
Fireblade K'Chona: Ai! Another fangirl!  
  
Deiseach: Yeah. A little while in between, but I hope it's worth it.  
  
Malfoyelf: Yes, Legolas is a skilled Pancake Stitcher. The things you learn . . .  
  
Merrylyn: Ai, which side are you on? Oh, wait, there's two of you now, so you can be on both at once. Fun.  
  
The Noble Platypus: I'm afraid there was no time for Bill. Alas.  
  
Bulma Greenleaf: Some of the fangirls are Hirilnara's, but there's a few more . . . like several thousand.  
  
Raven Firedragon: No, they haven't, and yes, he is. Help!  
  
Yaavannie: Ah, problem with #28387. We've kinda lost track of him. Sorry.  
  
Roseblade22: Yes, I'm under attack. But I'm afraid I didn't get this chapter out *quite* as soon as I would have liked.  
  
Rebecca Rose: Ooh, lots of reviews. I'm afraid I'm only going to reply to a few points. Yes, no one apart from Pip eats the pancakes. Don't know why. I'm afraid portals are only available to a few people. Destroying the Ring would be no fun. Yes, PJ was evil to poor Faramir. Legolas isn't *that* mean to the Assistants. And that is the very short reply to lots of reviews.  
  
Amariel: Oh, dear. Amariel on caffeine . . . not good. Will hide now.  
  
Lady of Mowzerness: Well, I'm glad you liked it.  
  
Elenea: Yes, I read. I actually liked the Silmarillion best. Mainly because I'm a big fan of the High Kings.  
  
Pointy: But spellchecking without a spell check is hard. Fortunately, I now have one, so spelling errors will be minimal. Rejoice! And no, no one else has noticed the Steven King thing. Dwarves? How they became a race? Whowhatwhyhuh?  
  
Elfitchick: Yes, more. Now.  
  
Chocolat Elf: Well, I'm glad you like it. But don't insult Smaug . . . Liliac might hear you.  
  
Elanhin: The cliffhanger was not my fault . . . oh, all right, it was. Muahaha. But I'm sorry I didn't update fast.  
  
UnDeadGoat: Ah, but these are *special* pancakes.  
  
Seremela the Rifle Chic: Ah, well, no worries. You can be put in the Saga if I find a space. I'm not sure if I will, though . . . you may end up as a minor character. And happy extremely belated birthday!  
  
Wynjara: Ohh, pancake world domination . . .  
  
Amicus: Oh, so do I.  
  
Annoyed: Yay! Thankies! Flames are fun!  
  
Hirilnara: Not directed at me, so no comment.  
  
Malfoyelf: I'm sorry about the delay. I did manage to get an update done eventually.  
  
Nathonea: But longer is too hard! There's not all that much to say! And it's not too oxymoronic.  
  
Feanare: Thanks.  
  
Lady of Mowzerness: No! My universe is not dead! It will live on! And I'm not dead either. Just resting.  
  
Amariel: I know, I'm sorry, I got tangled up in real life for some reason. But I'm back now!  
  
KittyCatBlack: I'm glad you liked it. And I think you're the first reviewer to be cultured while on a sugar high.  
  
Sariah: No, this review is perfectly fine. But, um . . . Huinesoron nearly as big as Legolas . . . Innuendo alert . . .  
  
Isilhen: An hour to read the whole thing? Wow. And I *knew* I'd forgotten someone . . . Shelob. Drat that spider.  
  
Malfoyelf: All right! Updating . . . NOW!  
  
And so, we pick up where we left off, so long ago. Legolas returns to the Kitchen, preparing to go to war. (This story is crossovered with 'The Boromir Saga' and 'Ispace'. The counterpart chapters can be found there. It is also crossed with Hirilnara's 'Diary of a Pancake Fangirl', which will be updated later. Thank you)  
  
Lost Pancake Tales Thirty-Nine: The Final Battle  
  
Legolas followed Lainy back to the Kitchen, where the rest of his Assistants waited. There he was filled in on what had occurred.  
  
It appeared that Elanhin, on discovering that the Fangirls were coming - she had been eavesdropping as Huinesoron fretted - had taken it upon herself to come and get Legolas' team. She had not even stopped to tell her master where she was going, so they did not know what they would find when they arrived. Therefore, they were going to take weapons.  
  
Lots of weapons.  
  
"Has ANYONE seen the large frying pan?" called Chocolat across the makeshift kitchen in the caves above the Mirrormere. Receiving only negative responses, she sighed. "It's probably with the last bag of flour," she mused. At that moment, there was a screech from Legolas' room, followed by a cry of, "BULMA!"  
  
All of the Assistants crowded in to see Legolas pointing at something on his pillow. With icy calm, the Elf Lord said, "You, Bulma Greenleaf, are supposed to be in charge of the security of the kitchen. Why, then, do I return to find . . . those . . . on my bed?"  
  
"Um, uh," the girl stuttered. Taking a deep breath, she started again. "I'm not sure, my Lord. However, there has been someone watching the entrance at all times. The only explanation I can see is that some fangirl has managed to gain possession of a portal generator. Regrettably, we were not prepared for this eventuality."  
  
"When you return, see to it that you are," he replied, and swept out of the room. As the rest of the team followed, Amariel, who had been stuck at the back and unable to see, walked over to the bed. On the clean pillow lay two red roses, one slightly larger than the other.  
  
The team of seven went through the swirling blue portal at a run, emerging in the centre of the battle. Immediately, the pancakes began to fly, dropping fangirls on all sides. One fangirl, a short, brown-haired creature with glasses, noticed Legolas and began to squeal, but . . .  
  
SPLAT! . . . was cut short by Hirilnara's impressive shot.  
  
As the battle continued, and the pancakes flew - accompanied by fireballs from Elanhin - there was another flicker of blue light as an army of elves rushed onto the field. The team were grateful for this, as it lowered the number of fangirls they had to deal with, but they were still nearly overwhelmed.  
  
The seven were slowly forced apart, islands of stability in a sea of pink. As Amariel, now surrounded by an ever-shrinking ring of fangirls, tried to find some of her companions, she heard a voice she vaguely remembered, calling out in a hoarse cry.  
  
"LEGOLAS! BEHIND YOU!"  
  
The Elf lord span at the sound of his name, and found himself face to face with a fangirl. This was not just any fangirl, though. She moved with a purpose not found in the rest of the horde, and furthermore was not drooling much at all. Then there was the rope. Not many of them had that, either.  
  
Legolas stared, unable to move. Then, in an instant, she burst into flame. As the girl screamed, Legolas looked to his left to see the great dragon Smaug sailing upwards and starting to turn, obviously coming back for another pass. Turning back, the elf looked for the fangirl. He saw her once, hair ablaze, but then she vanished.  
  
The battle wore on, but Legolas' heart was no longer in it. He had realised, as the girl with the rope ran off screaming, that his life had become monotonous. A world in which no one actually liked him, merely feared him, was not one in which he wished to spend the remainder of his life.  
  
And so it came, finally, to the end of the battle. The bodies of the fangirls, some unconscious, many dead, covered the field. Legolas confronted his team for the last time.  
  
"Bulma, Chocolat, Lainy, Amariel, Hirilnara," he began, and then paused. The pause stretched out, until at last he sighed. "I can't keep doing this. I'm going back to Lothlorien to rejoin the Fellowship. I'll tie up all the loose ends, and continue the Quest. Goodbye."  
  
With that, Legolas Thranduillion, Lord of the Pancakes, turned, opened a portal, and stepped through. As the rip in space-time closed, the silver shape of the portal generator dropped back through. Then there was nothing but the field.  
  
* * * *  
  
Yes, I'm afraid the Lost Pancake Tales is almost over. Just one more chapter, to tie up all those lose ends, and then . . . no more.  
  
Unless, of course, you don't want me to finish? I'm sure I can find some way to carry on . . .  
  
hS 


	49. Lost Pancake Tales Forty: The Legendary ...

Back to regular updates, then.  
  
Liliac of the Purple Cloak: Well, I'm still not sure. It has been getting a bit dull. But not this chapter . . . perhaps the next one.  
  
UnDeadGoat: Yeah, sorry about that. I had to delete an earlier chapter. And no, it doesn't have to end if people don't want it to.  
  
WfR: Ff.net can get screwy like that. And I'm divided in the same way. It's so hard . . .  
  
MormonGirlofMissouri: Well, I'm glad you like it . . . a lot, it seems. I'm afraid it can't be published, though. And a movie? Now *that* would be funny . . .  
  
Kyma: Well, I did only just post it. But I'm glad you like it.  
  
Bulma Greenleaf: Well, the general consensus seems to say I continue. So I will, at least for a while. And yes, you're famous. Well done.  
  
Hirilnara: Ouch, too many capitals. And I get the feeling you don't want me to stop?  
  
Elenea: No, no other food products. It's pancakes or nothing. But I'll try to keep it going.  
  
Lady of Mowzerness: Yep, I'm not dead. Yet. And neither is this story.  
  
Pointy Ears Are My Thing: Ouch. That hurt. And I assume Aule made the first dwarf women as he did the men. Do you know differently?  
  
Bilbo-san: Yes, I finally got my act together. And you're ill? Aww, not good.  
  
Malfoyelf: Yes, I updated. And yes, I've seen RotK, and was torn between going 'Ooh, pretty', screaming 'THAT NEVER HAPPENED!' and crying. I ended up doing quite a bit of all three.  
  
And here we are again, for the first part of the final chapter of the Lost Pancake Tales . . .  
  
Lost Pancake Tales Forty: The Legendary Eighth Chapter Part One  
  
Legolas fell through the shimmering blue portal into the silence of the Golden Wood. Looking back at it, he took a deep breath and threw the portal generator through. The blue circle closed up, leaving him alone in the silent forest.  
  
Moving quickly now, knowing he had little time, the elf lord removed his black cape and bundled it under a root. Now, clad only in his old clothes, he looked almost the same as when he had first left, save perhaps a little wearier. He wished that he could forget all about pancakes right now, but there was something he needed to do first. The timeline had to be sorted out.  
  
Heading up towards the highest point of Caras Galadron, he passed through a small clearing. To others it would be unremarkable, but Legolas saw the small scorch marks on the trees and ground, the traces of batter all around, and knew that a climactic battle had taken place here but a few days before.  
  
Although he had not walked the next part of the journey before, he had seen the route above, and thus came swiftly to a certain tree, atop which a flet rested. This was it. He took a deep breath, and began to climb.  
  
Reaching the flet, Legolas moved around to the back to avoid the guards, and slipped in through a small window. The prisoner inside glanced up once, disinterested . . . and then his head snapped up again in shock. "You . . . you're *me*!"  
  
"No, Legolas," Legolas replied, "I am you as you will be after you complete your mission."  
  
The imprisoned Legolas frowned. "The Quest? Then we will succeed?"  
  
Legolas shook his head. "No, Legolas, that is not the mission of which I speak. I refer to your duty to pancake every creature who has become famous in this benighted world."  
  
The younger Legolas shook his head. "No, you don't understand. Galadriel has cured me of that. I have no desire to see a pancake ever again, let alone splat people."  
  
"No, Legolas," came the reply, "I'm afraid it is *you* who does not understand. You see, the counter-spell that was put on you has one weakness . . . exposure to that which you are intended to forget while the spell is still operating will destroy it's workings utterly. So I am afraid this is something that has to be done."  
  
The younger Legolas started to object, but . . .  
  
SPLAT!  
  
Legolas sat and watched his younger self sleep, until at last the spell of the pancake faded and he awoke. "So," said the newly-created Pancake Lord, "that is how it feels. Well, well." Then he looked up at his older self. "So," he asked, "what do we do now?"  
  
* * * *  
  
Yes, there is another chapter to come. I know it's evil, but hey, I still need to work out exactly what's going to happen. So . . . I'll see you soon, yah?  
  
hS 


	50. Lost Pancake Tales Forty: The Legendary ...

And finally, I get back to it. Apologies for the wait, people – I'm not dead, honest.  
  
Thank you to everyone who reviewed. I'm sorry, I'm not going to give individual replies – in the interests of getting this out sometime before next Christmas, it's simply impractical – but I really am very grateful to you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.  
  
And now, here it is. The long-awaited . . .  
  
Lost Pancake Tales Forty: The Legendary Eighth Chapter Part Two  
  
Legolas watched from behind a tree as the Fellowship gathered. Although it went against his instincts – both his hunter ones and those developed as the Pancake Lord - to stay this close to a trap, but it was necessary. He had ensured that the story so far would occur; now he had to get back to the Fellowship.  
  
His ears picked up Sam's words – "By the way, Lady, I like the canopy" – and Galadriel's shocked response. As the giant pancake dropped, he turned and ran. By the time the Lady of Lorien called his name, he was halfway to the top of the hill. He laughed, realising that they might need a guide to find him.  
  
As he reached the highest point, he pulled out his last few pancakes. He may be surrendering, but he had to go out with style. Backing up against a mallorn, he watched the trees from which he had emerged. Already he could hear the sound of approaching feet. Within moments, the first target – Aragorn, it sounded like – would be in view . . .  
  
There was a sharp pain in the back of his head, and the elf crumpled to the ground. He wondered desperately how any of them had managed to get behind him so fast, so quietly, but as his vision faded to black he realised the truth. There had been no attacker, no attack. Just a branch, broken off from the canopy far above.  
  
And then he knew no more.  
  
* * * *  
  
Legolas stood on the outskirts of Lothlorien, looking out. He knew that his older self, who had reawaken the call of the pancakes in him, was now recuperating from Galadriel's anti-pancake spell. He knew how tired the other elf must be, as he himself had been in the middle of that process when he had been rescued.  
  
But now he was free. No one was guarding for people *leaving* Lorien, especially not when they knew he was locked away. This was his chance. He had his cooking material – retrieved from where his older self had left it after making his final products – he had his mission, and now he had a destination.  
  
Without looking back, Legolas Thranduillion, Lord of the Pancakes, set off towards Moria, and his destiny.  
  
* * * *  
  
And that's it. I really mean it. There will be no more. You've had fifty chapters, be grateful for them. I am not continuing.  
  
In order to prevent assassination attempts, I will hereby hand control of the Pancakes plotline over to Hirilnara, author of 'Diary of a Pancake Fangirl'. She now has control over whatever else happens. Go and read her story.  
  
Farewell, my friends. It's been fun.  
  
hS  
  
Ps. One more thing. In order to make this thing easier to read, the fic (and all my others) is in the process of being backed up on my website. There you can also find various bits of artwork. It's linked from my profile. And yes, that's where you can now get the poster.  
  
hS 


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